



t 













































THE SWORD 
OF ANTIETAM 


By JOSEPH A. ALTSHELER 


CIVIL WAR SERIES 

The Guns o! Bull Run The Scouts of Stonewall 


The Guns of Shiloh 


The Sword of Antietam 


THE TRAILERS SERIES 

The Young Trailers The Riflemen of the Ohio 
The Scouts of the Valley 
The Border Watch 


The Forest Runners 
The Free Rangers 


The Texan Scouts 


THE TEXAN SERIES 

The Texan Star 

The Texan Triumph 


Apache Gold 
The Quest of the Four 
The Last of the Chiefs 
In Circling Camps 


A Soldier of Manhattan 
The Sun of Saratoga 
A Herald of the West 
The Wilderness Road 


D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK 


167 


THE SWORD 
OF ANTIETAM 

A STORY OF THE 
NATION’S CRISIS 


BY 

JOSEPH A. ALTSHELER 

M 

AUTHOR OP “THE SCOUTS OP STONEWALL,” “ THE 
GUNS OF BULL RUN,” ETC. 



ILLUSTRATED BY 
CHARLES L. WRENN 

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
NEW YORK AND LONDON 
1914 



pZ-1 
.A 41 

Mt 


Copyright, 1914, by 
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 


Printed in the United States of America 

SEP 23 1914 

©CI.A380500 

A. \ 


FOREWORD 


“ The Sword of Antietam” tells a complete 
story, but it is one in the chain of Civil War 
romances, begun in “The Guns of Bull Run” 
and continued through “The Guns of Shiloh” 
and “The Scouts of Stonewall.” The young 
Northern hero, Dick Mason, and his friends are in 
the forefront of the tale. 




CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGET 


I. 

Cedar Mountain 






1 

II. 

At the Capital . 






28 

III. 

Beside the River 






54 

IV. 

Springing the Trap . 


• 




80 

V. 

The Second Manassas 


• 




102 

VI. 

The Mournful Forest 


• 




130 

VII. 

Orders No. 191 . 


• 




151 

VIII. 

The Duel in the Pass 


• 




171 

IX. 

Across the Stream . 






187 

X. 

Antietam . 






209 

XI. 

A Family Affair 






230 

XII. 

Through the Bluegrass 






251 

XIII. 

Perryville . 




• 


276 

XIV. 

Seeking Bragg . 

• 

• 


• 


299 

XV. 

Stone River 

• 

• 


• 


3 i 9 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


FACING 

PAGE 

“He saw Colonel Winchester’s horse pitch for- 
ward!” Frontispiece 

“ ‘ General Pope’s tent! Where is it?’” ... 56 

“ The officers and the cavalry galloped their horses 

into the little river ” 206 

330 


“ The three batteries . . . suddenly opened a terrible 
enfilading fire upon the Southern advance ” 


























































































f 


























THE 

SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


CHAPTER I 

CEDAR MOUNTAIN 

T HE first youth rode to the crest of the hill, and, 
still sitting on his horse, examined the country 
in the south with minute care through a pair 
of powerful glasses. The other two. dismounted and 
waited patiently. All three were thin and their faces 
were darkened by sun and wind. But they were strong 
alike of body and soul. Beneath the faded blue uni- 
forms brave hearts beat and powerful muscles re- 
sponded at once to every command of the will. 

“What do you see, Dick ?” asked Warner, who leaned 
easily against his horse, with one arm over the pom- 
mel of his saddle. 

“Hills, valleys, mountains, the August heat shim- 
mering over all, but no human being.” 

“A fine country,” said young Pennington, “and I like 
to look at it, but just now my Nebraska prairie would 
be better for us. We could at least see the advance of 
Stonewall Jackson before he was right on top of us.” 

Dick took another long look, searching every point 
in the half circle of the south with his glasses. Al- 


i 


THE SWORD OF, ANTIETAM 


though burned by summer the country was beautiful, 
and neither heat nor cold could take away its pictur- 
esqueness. He saw valleys in which the grass grew 
thick and strong, clusters of hills dotted \vith trees, 
and then the blue loom of mountains clothed heavily 
with foliage. Over everything bent a dazzling sky of 
blue and gold. 

The light was so intense that with his glasses he 
could pick out individual trees and rocks on the far 
slopes. He saw an occasional roof, but nowhere did he 
see man. He knew the reason, but he had become so 
used to his trade that at the moment, he felt no sad- 
ness. All this region had been swept by great armies. 
Here the tide of battle in the mightiest of all wars 
had rolled back and forth, and here it was destined to 
surge again in a volume increasing always. 

“I don’t find anything,” repeated Dick, “but three 
pairs of eyes are better than none. George, you take 
the glasses and see what you can see and Frank will 
follow.” 

He dismounted and stood holding the reins of his 
horse while the young Vermonter looked. He noticed 
that the mathematical turn of Warner’s mind showed 
in every emergency. He swept the glasses back and 
forth in a regular curve, not looking here and now 
there, but taking his time and missing nothing. It 
occurred to Dick that he was a type of his region, 
slow but thorough, and sure to win after defeat. 

“What’s the result of your examination?” asked 
Dick as Warner passed the glasses in turn to Pen- 
nington. 


2 


CEDAR MOUNTAIN 


“Let x equal what I saw, which is nothing. Let y 
equal the result I draw, which is nothing. Hence we 
have x + y which still equals nothing." 

Pennington was swifter in his examination. The 
blood in his veins flowed a little faster than War- 
ner's. 

“I find nothing but land and water," he said with- 
out waiting to be asked, “and I'm disappointed. I had 
a hope, Dick, that I’d see Stonewall Jackson himself 
riding along a slope." 

“Even if you saw him, how would you know it was 
Stonewall ?’’ 

“I hadn’t thought of that. We’ve heard so much 
of him that it just seemed to me I’d know him any- 
where." 

“Same here," said Warner. “Remember all the tales 
we’ve heard about his whiskers, his old slouch hat and 
his sorrel horse." 

“I’d like to see him myself," confessed Dick. “From 
all we hear he’s the man who kept McClellan from 
taking Richmond. He certainly played hob with the 
plans of our generals. You know, I’ve got a cousin, 
Harry Kenton, with him. I had a letter from him a 
week ago — passing through the lines, and coming in 
a round-about way. Writes as if he thought Stone- 
wall Jackson was a demigod. Says we’d better quit 
and go home, as we haven’t any earthly chance to win 
this war." 

“He fights best who wins last," said Warner. “I’m 
thinking I won’t see the green hills of Vermont for 
a long time yet, because I mean to pay a visit to Rich- 

3 


THE SWORD OF, ANTIETAM 


mond first. Have you got your cousin’s letter with 
you, Dick?” 

‘‘No, I destroyed it. I didn’t want it bobbing up 
some time or other to cause either of us trouble. A 
man I know at home says he’s kept out of a lot of 
trouble by ‘never writin’ nothin’ to nobody.’ And if 
you do write a letter the next best thing is to burn it 
as quick as you can.” 

“If my eyes tell the truth, and they do,” said Pen- 
nington, “here comes a short, thick man riding a long, 
thick horse and he — the man, not the horse — bears a 
startling resemblance to our friend, ally, guide and 
sometime mentor, Sergeant Daniel Whitley.” 

“Yes, it’s the sergeant,” said Dick, looking down into 
the valley, “and I’m glad he’s joining us. Do you 
know, boys, I often think these veteran sergeants know 
more than some of our generals.” 

“It’s not an opinion. It’s a fact,” said Warner. 
“Hi, there, sergeant ! Here are your friends ! Come 
up and make the same empty report that we’ve got 
ready for the colonel.” 

Sergeant Daniel Whitley looked at the three lads, 
and his face brightened. He had a good intellect under 
his thatch of hair, and a warm heart within his strong 
body. The boys, although lieutenants, and he only a 
sergeant in the ranks, treated him usually as an equal 
and often as a superior. 

Colonel Winchester’s regiment and the remains of 
Colonel Newcomb’s Pennsylvanians had been sent east 
after the defeat of the Union army at the Seven Days, 
and were now with Pope’s Army of Virginia, which 


4 


CEDAR MOUNTAIN 


was to hold the valley and also protect Washington. 
Grant’s success at Shiloh had been offset by McClellan’s 
failure before Richmond, and the President and his 
Cabinet at Washington were filled with justifiable 
alarm. Pope was a western man, a Kentuckian, and 
he had insisted upon having some of the western 
troops with him. 

The sergeant rode his horse slowly up the slope, and 
joined the lads over whom he watched like a father. 

“And what have the hundred eyes of Argus be- 
held?” asked Warner. 

“Argus ?” said the sergeant. “I don’t know any such 
man. Name sounds queer, too.” 

“He belongs to a distant and mythical past, sergeant, 
but he’d be mighty useful if we had him here. If even 
a single one of his hundred eyes were to light on 
Stonewall Jackson, it would be a great service.” 

The sergeant shook his head and looked reprovingly 
at Warner. 

“It ain’t no time for jokin’,” he said. 

“I was never further from it. It seems to me that 
we need a lot of Arguses more than anything else. 
This is the enemy’s country, and we hear that Stone- 
wall Jackson is advancing. Advancing where, from 
what and when? There is no Argus to tell. The 
country supports a fairly numerous population, but it 
hasn’t a single kind or informing word for us. Is 
Stonewall Jackson going to drop from the sky, which 
rumor says is his favorite method of approach?” 

“He’s usin’ the solid ground this time, anyway,” said 
Sergeant Daniel Whitley. “I’ve been eight miles far- 


5 


THE SWORD OF. ANTIETAM 


ther south, an’ if I didn’t see cavalry cornin’ along the 
skirt of a ridge, then my eyes ain’t any friends of 
mine. Then I came through a little place of not more’n 
five houses. No men there, just women an’ children, 
but when I looked back I saw them women an’ chil- 
dren, too, grinnin’ at me. That means somethin’, as 
shore as we’re livin’ an’ breathin’. I’m bettin’ that we 
new fellows from the west will get acquainted with 
Stonewall Jackson inside of twenty-four hours.” 

“You don’t mean that ? It’s not possible !” exclaimed 
Dick, startled. “Why, when we last heard of Jackson 
he was so far south we can’t expect him in a week!” 

“You’ve heard that they call his men the foot cav- 
alry,” said the sergeant gravely, “an’ I reckon from all 
I’ve learned since I come east that they’ve won the 
name fair an’ true. See them woods off to the south 
there. See the black line they make ag’inst the sky. 
I know, the same as if I had seen him, that Stone- 
wall Jackson is down in them forests, cornin’ an’ corn- 
in’ fast.” 

The sergeant’s tone was ominous, and Dick felt a i 
tingling at the roots of his hair. The western troops 
were eager to meet this new Southern phenomenon 
who had suddenly shot like a burning star across the 
sky, but for the first time there was apprehension in 
his soul. He had seen but little of the new general. 
Pope, but he had read his proclamations and he had 
thought them bombastic. He talked lightly of the 
enemy and of the grand deeds that he was going to 
do. Who was Pope to sweep away such men as Lee 
and Jackson with mere words ! 

6 


CEDAR MOUNTAIN 


Dick longed for Grant, the stern, unyielding, unbeat- 
able Grant whom he had known at Shiloh. In the 
west the Union troops had felt the strong hand over 
them, and confidence had flowed into them, but here 
they were in doubt. They felt that the powerful and 
directing mind was absent. 

Silence fell upon them all for a little space, while 
the four gazed intently into the south, strange fears 
assailing everyone. Dick never doubted that the Union 
would win. He never doubted it then and he never 
doubted it afterward, through all the vast hecatomb 
when the flag of the Union fell more than once in 
terrible defeat. 

But their ignorance was mystifying and oppressive. 
They saw before them the beautiful country, the hills 
and valleys, the forest and the blue loom of the moun- 
tains, so much that appealed to the eye, and yet the 
horizon, looking so peaceful in the distance, was barbed 
with spears. Jackson was there! The sergeant’s the- 
ory had become conviction with them. Distance had 
been nothing to him. He was at hand with a great 
force, and Lee with another army might fall at any 
time upon their flank, while McClellan was isolated 
and left useless, far away. 

Dick’s heart missed a beat or two, as he saw the 
sinister picture that he had created in his own mind. 
Highly imaginative, he had leaped to the conclusion 
that Lee and Jackson meant to trap the Union army, 
the hammer beating it out on the anvil. He raised the 
glasses to his eyes, surveyed the forests in the South 
once more, and then his heart missed another beat. 


THE SWORD OF. ANTIETAM 


He had caught the flash of steel, the sun’s rays fall- 
ing across a bayonet or a polished rifle barrel. And 
then as he looked he saw the flash again and again. He 
handed the glasses to Warner and said quietly : 

“George, I see troops on the edge of that far hill 
to the south and the east. Can’t you see them, too ?” 

“Yes, I can make them out clearly now, as they pass 
across a bit of open land. They’re Confederate cav- 
alry, two hundred at least, I should say.” 

Dick learned long afterward that it was the troop 
of Sherburne, but, for the present, the name of Sher- 
burne was unknown to him. He merely felt that this 
was the vanguard of Jackson riding forward to set 
the trap. The men were now so near that they could 
be seen with the naked eye, and the sergeant said 
tersely : 

“At last we’ve seen what we were afraid we would 

11 

see. 

“And look to the left also,” said Warner, who still 
held the glasses. “There’s a troop of horse coming up 
another road, too. By George, they’re advancing at 
a trot! We’d better clear out or we may be enclosed 
between the two horns of their cavalry.” 

“We’ll go back to our force at Cedar Run,” said 
Harry, “and report what we’ve seen. As you say, 
George, there’s no time to waste.” 

The four mounted and rode fast, the dust of the 
road flying in a cloud behind their horses’ heels. Dick 
felt that they had fulfilled their errand, but he had 
his doubts how their news would be received. The 
[Northern generals in the east did not seem to him to 


8 


CEDAR MOUNTAIN 


equal tHose of the west in keenness and resolution, 
while the case was reversed so far as the Southern 
generals were concerned. 

But fast as they went the Southern cavalry was com- 
ing with equal speed. They continually saw the flash 
of arms in both east and west. The force in the 
west was the nearer of the two. Not only was Sher- 
burne there, but Harry Kenton was with him, and be- 
sides their own natural zeal they had all the eagerness 
and daring infused into them by the great spirit and 
brilliant successes of Jackson. 

“They won’t be able to enclose us between the two 
horns of their horsemen,” said Sergeant Whitley, 
whose face was very grave, “and the battle won’t be 
to-morrow or the next day.” 

“Why not? I thought Jackson was swift,” said 
Warner. 

“Cause it will be fought to-day. I thought Jackson 
was swift, too, but he’s swifter than I thought. Them 
foot cavalry of his don’t have to change their name. 
Look into the road cornin’ up that narrow valley.” 

The eyes of the three boys followed his pointing 
finger, and they now saw masses of infantry, men in 
gray pressing forward at full speed. They saw also 
batteries of cannon, and Dick almost fancied he could 
’ ear the rumble of their wheels. 

“Looks as if the sergeant was right,” said Penning- 
ton. “Stonewall Jackson is here.” 

They increased their speed to a gallop, making di- 
rectly for Cedar Run, a cold, clear little stream com- 
ing out of the hills. It was now about the middle of 


9 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


the morning and the day was burning hot and breath- 
less. Their hearts began to pound with excitement, 
and their breath was drawn painfully through throats 
lined with dust. 

A long ridge covered with forest rose on one side 
of them and now they saw the flash of many bayonets 
and rifle barrels along its lowest slope. Another heavy 
column of infantry was advancing, and presently they 
heard the far note of trumpets calling to one another. 

“Their whole army is in touch,” said the sergeant. 
“The trumpets show it. Often on the plains, when we 
had to divide our little force into detachments, they’d 
have bugle talk with one another. We must go faster 
if we can.” 

They got another ounce of strength out of their 
horses, and now they saw Union cavalry in front. In 
a minute or two they were among the blue horsemen, 
giving the hasty news of Jackson’s advance. Other 
scouts and staff officers arrived a little later with like 
messages, and not long afterward they heard shots 
behind them telling them that the hostile pickets were 
in touch. 

They watered their horses in Cedar Run, crossed it 
and rejoined their own regiment under Colonel Arthur 
Winchester. The colonel was thin, bronzed and strong, 
and he, too, like the other new men from the West, 
was eager for battle with the redoubtable Jackson. 

“What have you seen, Dick?” he exclaimed. “Is 
it a mere scouting force of cavalry, or is Jackson really 
at hand?” 

“I think it’s Jackson himself. We saw heavy col- 


io 


CEDAR MOUNTAIN 


umns coming up. They were pressing forward, too, 
as if they meant to brush aside whatever got in their 
way.” 

“Then we’ll show them!” exclaimed Colonel Win- 
chester. “We’ve only seven thousand men here on 
Cedar Run, but Banks, who is in immediate command, 
has been stung deeply by his defeats at the hands of 
Jackson, and he means a fight to the last ditch. So 
does everybody else.” 

Dick, at that moment, the thrill of the gallop gone, 
was not so sanguine. The great weight of Jackson’s 
name hung over him like a sinister menace, and the 
Union troops on Cedar Run were but seven thousand. 
The famous Confederate leader must have at least 
three times that number. Were the Union forces, sep- 
arated into several armies, to be beaten again in detail ? 
Pope himself should be present with at least fifty 
thousand men. 

Their horses had been given to an orderly and Dick 
threw himself upon the turf to rest a little. All along 
the creek the Union army, including his own regiment, 
was forming in line of battle but his colonel had not 
yet called upon him for any duty. Warner and Pen- 
nington were also resting from their long and exciting 
ride, but the sergeant, who seemed never to know fa- 
tigue, was already at work with his men. 

“Listen to those skirmishers,” said Dick. “It 
sounds like the popping of corn at home on winter 
evenings, when I was a little boy.” 

“But a lot more deadly,” said Pennington. “I 
wouldn’t like to be a skirmisher. I don’t mind firing 


ii 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


into the smoke and the crowd, but I’d hate to sit down 
behind a stump or in the grass and pick out the spot 
on a man that I meant for my bullet to hit.” 

“You won’t have to do any such work, Frank,” said 
Warner. “Hark to it! The sergeant was right. 
We’re going to have a battle to-day and a big one. 
The popping of your corn, Dick, has become an un- 
broken sound.” 

Dick, from the crest of the hillock on which they 
lay, gazed over the heads of the men in blue. The 
skirmishers were showing a hideous activity. A’ con- 
tinuous line of light ran along the front of both 
armies, and behind the flash of the Southern firing 
he saw heavy masses of infantry emerging from the 
woods. A deep thrill ran through him. Jackson, the 
famous, the redoubtable, the unbeatable, was at hand 
with his army. Would he remain unbeaten? Dick 
said to himself, in unspoken words, over and over 
again, “No ! No ! No ! No !” He and his comrades had 
been victors in the west. They must not fail here. 

Colonel Winchester now called to them, and mount- 
ing their horses they gathered around him to await 
his orders. These officers, though mere boys, learned 
fast. Dick knew enough already of war to see that 
they were in a strong position. Before them flowed 
the creek. On their flank and partly in their front was 
a great field of Indian corn. A quarter of a mile 
away was a lofty ridge on which were posted Union 
guns with gunners who knew so well how to use them. 
To right and left ran the long files of infantry, their 
faces white but resolute. 


12 


CEDAR MOUNTAIN 


“I think,” said Dick to Warner, “that if Jackson 
passes over this place he will at least know that we’ve 
been here.” 

“Yes, he’ll know it, and besides he’ll make quite a 
halt before passing. At least, that’s my way of think- 
ing.” 

There was a sudden dying of the rifle fire. The 
Union skirmishers were driven in, and they fell back- 
on the main body which was silent, awaiting the at- 
tack. Dick was no longer compelled to use the glasses. 
He saw with unaided eye the great Southern columns 
marching forward with the utmost confidence, heavy 
batteries advancing between the regiments, ready at 
command to sweep the Northern ranks with shot and 
shell. 

Dick shivered a little. He could not help it. They 
were face to face with Jackson, and he was all that the 
heralds of fame had promised. He had eye enough 
to see that the Southern force was much greater than 
their own, and, led by such a man, how could they 
fail to win another triumph ? He looked around upon 
the army in blue, but he did not see any sign of fear. 
Both the beaten and the unbeaten were ready for a 
new battle. 

There was a mighty crash from the hill and the 
Northern batteries poured a stream of metal into the 
advancing ranks of their foe. 

The Confederate advance staggered, but, recovering 
itself, came on again. A tremendous cheer burst from 
the ranks of the lads in blue. Stonewall Jackson with all 
his skill and fame was before them, but they meant 


13 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


to stop him. Numbers were against them, and Banks, 
their leader, had been defeated already by Jackson, 
but they meant to stop him, nevertheless. 

The Southern guns replied. Posted along the slopes 
of Slaughter Mountain, sinister of name, they sent a 
sheet of death upon the Union ranks. But the regi- 
ments, the new and the old, stood firm. Those that 
had been beaten before by Jackson were resolved not 
to be beaten again by him, and the new regiments from 
the west, one or two of which had been at Shiloh, were 
resolved never to be beaten at all. 

“The lads are steady,” said Colonel Winchester. 
“It’s a fine sign. I’ve news, too, that two thousand 
men have come up. We shall now have nine thousand 
with which to withstand the attack, and I don’t be- 
lieve they can drive us away. Oh, why isn’t Pope 
himself here with his whole army? Then we could 
wipe Jackson off the face of the earth!” 

But Pope was not there. The commander of a huge 
force, the man of boastful words who was to do such 
great things, the man who sent such grandiloquent dis- 
patches from “Headquarters in the Saddle,” to the 
anxious Lincoln at Washington, had strung his nu- 
merous forces along in detachments, just as the others 
had done before him, and the booming of Jackson’s 
cannon attacking the Northern vanguard with his 
whole army could not reach ears so far away. 

The fire now became heavy along the whole Union 
front. All the batteries on both sides were coming 
into action, and the earth trembled with the rolling 
crash. The smoke rose and hung in clouds over the 


14 


CEDAR MOUNTAIN 


hills, the valley and the cornfield. The hot air, sur- 
charged with dust, smoke and burned gunpowder, was 
painful and rasping to the throat. The frightful 
screaming of the shells filled the air, and then came 
the hissing of the bullets like a storm of sleet. 

Colonel Winchester and his staff dismounted, giv- 
ing their horses to an orderly who led them to the rear. 
Horses would not be needed for the present, at least, 
and they had learned to avoid needless risk. 

The attack was coming closer, and the bullets as 
they swept through their ranks found many victims. 
Colonel Winchester ordered his regiment to kneel and 
open fire, being held hitherto in reserve. Dick 
snatched up a rifle from a soldier who had fallen 
almost beside him, and he saw that Warner and Pen- 
nington had equipped themselves in like fashion. 

A strong gust of wind lifted the smoke before 
them a little. Dick saw many splashes of water on 
the surface of the creek where bullets struck, and 
there were many tiny spurts of dust in the road, where 
other bullets fell. Then he saw beyond the dark masses 
of the Southern infantry. It seemed to him that they 
were strangely close. He believed that he could see 
their tanned faces, one by one, and their vengeful eyes, 
but it was only fancy. 

The next instant the signal was given, and the regi- 
ment fired as one. There was a long flash of fire, a 
tremendous roaring in Dick’s ears, then for an instant 
or two a vast cloud of smoke hid the advancing gray 
mass. When it was lifted a moment later the men in 
gray were advancing no longer. Their ranks were 


15 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


shattered and broken, the ground was covered with the 
fallen and the others were reeling back. 

“We win ! We win !” shouted Pennington, wild with 
enthusiasm. 

“For the present, at least,” said Warner, a deep flush 
blazing in either cheek. 

There was no return fire just then from that point, 
and the smoke lifted a little more. Above the crash 
of the battle which raged fiercely on either flank, they 
heard the notes of a trumpet rising, loud, clear, and 
distinct from all other sounds. Dick knew that it was 
a rallying call, and then he heard Pennington utter 
a wild shout. 

“I see him ! I see him !” he cried. “It’s old Stone- 
wall himself ! There on the hillock, on the little horse !” 

The vision was but for an instant. Dick gazed with 
all his eyes, and he saw several hundred yards away a 
thickset man on a sorrel horse. He was bearded and 
he stooped a little, seeming to bend an intense gaze 
upon the Northern lines. 

There was no time for anyone to fire, because in a 
few seconds the smoke came back, a huge, impene- 
trable curtain, and hid the man and the hillock. But 
Dick had not the slightest doubt that it was the great 
Southern leader, and he was right. It was Stonewall 
Jackson on the hillock, rallying his men, and Dick’s 
own cousin, Harry Kenton, rode by his side. 

They reloaded, but a staff officer galloped up and de- 
livered a written order to Colonel Winchester. The 
whole regiment left the line, another less seasoned tak- 
ing its place, and they marched off to one flank, where 

16 


CEDAR MOUNTAIN 


a field of wheat lately cut, and a wood on the extreme 
end, lay before them. Behind them they heard the 
battle swelling anew, but Dick knew that a new force 
of the foe was coming here, and he felt proud that 
his own regiment had been moved to meet an attack 
which would certainly be made with the greatest vio- 
lence. 

“Who are those men down in the wheat-field ?” 
asked Pennington. 

“Our own skirmishers/’ replied Warner. “See them 
running forward, hiding behind the shocks of straw 
and firing!” 

The riflemen were busy. They fired from the shelter 
of every straw stack in the field, and they stung the 
new Southern advance, which was already showing its 
front. Southern guns now began to search the wheat 
field. A shell struck squarely in the center of one of 
the shocks behind which three Northern skirmishers 
were kneeling. Dick saw the straw fly into the air as 
if picked up by a whirlwind. When it settled back it 
lay in scattered masses and three dark figures lay with 
it, motionless and silent. He shuddered and looked 
away. 

The edge of the wood was now lined with Southern 
infantry, and on their right flank was a numerous body 
of cavalry. Officers were waving their swords aloft, 
leading the men in person to the charge. 

“The attack will be heavy here,” said Colonel Win- 
chester. “Ah, there are our guns firing over our heads. 
We need ’em.” 

The Southern cannon were more numerous, but the 
1 7 


THE SWORD OF. ANTIETAM 


Northern guns, posted well on the hill, refused to he 
silenced. Some of them were dismounted and the gun- 
ners about them were killed, but the others, served with 
speed and valor, sprayed the whole Southern front 
with a deadly shower of steel. 

It was this welcome metal that Dick and his com- 
rades heard over their heads, and then the trumpets 
rang a shrill note of defiance along the whole line. 
Banks, remembering his bitter defeats and resolved 
upon victory now, was not awaiting the attack. He 
would make it himself. 

The whole wing lifted itself up and rushed through 
the wheat field, firing as they charged. The cannon 
were pushed forward and poured in volleys as fast as 
the gunners could load and discharge them. Dick felt 
the ground reeling beneath his feet, but he knew 
that they were advancing and that the enemy was 
giving way again. Stonewall Jackson and his generals 
felt a certain hardening of the Northern resistance that 
day. The recruits in blue were becoming trained now. 
They did not break in a panic, although their lines 
were raked through and through by the Southern shells. 
New men stepped in the place of the fallen, and the 
lines, filled up, came on again. 

The Northern wing charging through the wheat 
field continued to bear back the enemy. Jackson was 
not yet able to stop the fierce masses in blue. A for- 
midable body of men issuing from the Northern side 
of the wood charged with the bayonet, pushing the 
charge home with a courage and a recklessness of 
death that the war had not yet seen surpassed. The 


18 


CEDAR MOUNTAIN 


Southern rifles and cannon raked them, but they never 
stopped, bursting like a tornado upon their foe. 

One of Jackson’s Virginia regiments gave way and 
then another. The men in blue from the wood and 
Colonel Winchester’s regiment joined, their shouts ris- 
ing above the smoke while they steadily pushed the 
enemy before them. 

Dick as he shouted with the rest felt a wild exul- 
tation. They were showing Jackson what they could 
do ! They were proving to him that he could not win 
always. His joy was warranted. No such confusion 
had ever before existed in Jackson’s army. The 
Northern charge was driven like a wedge of steel into 
its ranks. 

Jackson had able generals, valiant lieutenants, with 
him, Ewell and Early, and A. P. Hill and Winder, 
and they strove together to stop the retreat. The val- 
iant Winder was mortally wounded and died upon the 
field, and Jackson, with his wonderful ability to see 
what was happening and his equal power of decision, 
swiftly withdrew that wing of his army, also carrying 
with it every gun. 

A great shout of triumph rose from the men in blue 
as they saw the Southern retreat. 

“We win ! We win !” cried Pennington again. 

“Yes, we win !” shouted Warner, usually so cool. 

And it did seem even to older men that the triumph 
was complete. The blue and the gray were face to 
face in the smoke, but the gray were driven back by 
the fierce and irresistible charge, and, as their flight 
became swifter, the shells and grape from the Northern 


19 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


batteries plunged and tore through their ranks. Noth- 
ing stopped the blue wave. It rolled on and on, sweep- 
ing a mass of fugitives before it, and engulfing others. 

Dick had no ordered knowledge of the charge. He 
was a part of it, and he saw only straight in front 
of him, but he was conscious that all around him there 
was a fiery red mist, and a confused and terrible noise 
of shouting and firing. But they were winning ! They 
were beating Stonewall Jackson himself. His pulses 
throbbed so hard that he thought his arteries would 
burst, and his lips were dry and blackened from smoke, 
burned gunpowder and his own hot breath issuing like 
steam between them. 

Then came a halt so sudden and terrible that it shook 
Dick as if by physical contact. He looked around in 
wonder. The charge was spent, not from its lack of 
strength but because they had struck an obstacle. They 
had reckoned ill, because they had not reckoned upon 
all the resources of Stonewall Jackson’s mind. He 
had stemmed the rout in person and now he was push- 
ing forward the Stonewall Brigade, five regiments, 
which always had but two alternatives, to conquer or 
to die. Hill and Ewell with fresh troops were coming 
up also on his flanks, and now the blue and the gray, 
face to face again, closed in mortal combat. 

“We’ve stopped ! We’ve stopped ! Do you hear it, 
we’ve stopped!” exclaimed Pennington, his face a 
ghastly reek of dust and perspiration, his eyes show- 
ing amazement and wonder how the halt could have 
happened. Dick shared in the terrible surprise. The 
fire in front of him deepened suddenly. Men were 


20 


CEDAR MOUNTAIN 


struck down all about him. Heavy masses of troops 
in gray showed through the smoke. The Stonewall 
Brigade was charging, and regiments were charging 
with it on either side. 

The column in blue was struck in front and on either 
flank. It not only ceased its victorious advance, but 
it began to give ground. The men could not help it, 
despite their most desperate efforts. It seemed to Dick 
that the earth slipped under their feet. A tremendous 
excitement seized him at the thought of victory lost 
just when it seemed won. He ran up and down the 
lines, shouting to the men to stand firm. He saw that 
the senior officers were doing the same, but there was 
little order or method in his own movements. It was 
the excitement and bitter humiliation that drove him on. 

He stumbled in the smoke against Sergeant Whit- 
ley. The sergeant’s forehead had been creased by 
a bullet, but so much dust and burned gunpowder had 
gathered upon it that it was as black as the face of a 
black man. 

“Are we to lose after all?” exclaimed Dick. 

It seemed strange to him, even at that moment, that 
he should hear his own voice amid such a roar of can- 
non and rifles. But it was an undernote, and he heard 
with equal ease the sergeant’s reply: 

“It ain’t decided yet, Mr. Mason, but we’ve got to 
fight as we never fought before.” 

The Union men, both those who had faced Jackson 
before and those who were now meeting him for the 
first time, fought with unsurpassed valor, but, unequal 
in numbers, they saw the victory wrenched from their 


21 


THE SWORD OF. ANTIETAM 


grasp. Jackson now had his forces in the hollow of 
his hand. He saw everything that was passing, and 
with the mind of a master he read the meaning of it. 
He strengthened his own weak points and increased 
the attack upon those of the North. 

Dick remained beside the sergeant. He had lost 
sight of Colonel Winchester, Warner and Penning- 
ton in the smoke and the dreadful confusion, but he 
saw well enough that his fears were coming true. 

The attack in front increased in violence, and the 
Northern army was also attacked with fiery energy on 
both flanks. The men had the actual physical feeling 
that they were enclosed in the jaws of a vise, and, 
forced to abandon all hope of victory, they fought now 
to escape. Two small squadrons of cavalry, scarce 
two hundred in number, sent forward from a wood, 
charged the whole Southern army under a storm of 
cannon and rifle fire. They equalled the ride of the 
Six Hundred at Balaklava, but with no poet to cele- 
brate it, it remained like so many other charges in this 
war, an obscure and forgotten incident. 

Dick saw the charge of the horsemen, and the return 
of the few. Then he lost hope. Above the roar of 
the battle the rebel yell continually swelled afresh. The 
setting sun, no longer golden but red, cast a sinister 
light over the trampled wheat field, the slopes and the 
woods* torn by cannon balls. The dead and the 
wounded lay in thousands, and Banks, brave and tena- 
cious, but with bitter despair in his heart, was seeking 
to drag the remains of his army from that merciless 
vise which continued to close down harder and harder. 


22 


CEDAR MOUNTAIN 


Dick’s excitement and tension seemed to abate. Ho 
had been keyed to so high a pitch that his pulses grew 
gentler through very lack of force, and with the re- 
laxation came a clearer view. He saw the sinking red 
sun through the banks of smoke, and in fancy he 
already felt the cool darkness upon his face after the 
hot and terrible August day. He knew that night 
might save them, and he prayed deeply and fervently- 
for its swift coming. 

He and the sergeant came suddenly to Colonel Win- 
chester, whose hat had been shot from his head, but 
who was otherwise unharmed. Warner and Penning- 
ton were near, Warner slightly wounded but appar- 
ently unaware of the fact. The colonel, by shout and 
by gesture, was gathering around him the remains of 
his regiment. Other regiments on either side were 
trying to do the same, and eventually they formed a. 
compact mass which, driving with all its force back 
toward its old position, reached the hills and the woods 
just as the jaws of Stonewall Jackson’s vise shut down, 
but not upon the main body. 

Victory, won for a little while, had been lost. Night 
protected their retreat, and they fought with a valor 
that made Jackson and all his generals cautious. But 
this knowledge was little compensation to the North- 
ern troops. They knew that behind them was a great 
army, that Pope might have been present with fifty 
thousand men, sufficient to overwhelm Jackson. In- 
stead of the odds being more than two to one in their 
favor, they had been two to one against them. , 

It was a sullen army that lay in the woods in the 


23 


THE SWORD OF. ANTIETAM 


first hour or two of the night, gasping for breath. 
These men had boasted that they were a match for 
those of Jackson, and they were, if they could only 
have traded generals. Dick and his comrades from 
the west began to share in the awe that the name of 
Stonewall Jackson inspired. 

“He comes up to his advertisements. There ain’t no 
doubt of it,” said Sergeant Whitley. “I never saw 
anybody fight better than our men did, an’ that charge 
of the little troop of cavalry was never beat anywhere 
in the world. But here we are licked, and thirty or 
forty thousand men of ours not many miles away !” 

He spoke the last words with a bitterness that Dick 
had never heard in his voice before. 

“It’s simple,” said Warner, who was binding up his 
little wound with his own hand. “It’s just a question 
in mathematics. I see now how Stonewall Jackson 
won so many triumphs in the Valley of Virginia. Give 
Jackson, say, fifteen thousand men. We have fifty 
thousand, but we divide them into five armies of ten 
thousand apiece. Jackson fights them in detail, which 
is five battles, of course. His fifteen thousand defeat 
the ten thousand every time. Hence Jackson with 
fifteen thousand men has beaten our side. It’s simple 
but painful. In time our leaders will learn.” 

“After we’re all killed,” said Pennington sadly. 

“And the country is ripped apart so that it will take 
half a century to put the pieces back together again 
and put ’em back right,” said Dick, with equal sad- 
ness. 

“Never mind,” said Sergeant Whitley with return- 


24 


CEDAR MOUNTAIN 


in g cheerfulness. “Other countries have survived great 
wars and so will ours.” 

Some food was obtained for the exhausted men and 
they ate it nervously, paying little attention to the 
crackling fire of the skirmishers which was still going 
on in the darkness along their front. Dick saw the 
pink flashes along the edges of the woods and the 
wheat field, but his mind, deadened for the time, took 
no further impressions. Skirmishers were unpleasant 
people, anyway. Let them fight down there. It did 
not matter what they might do to one another. A! 
minute or two later he was ashamed of such thoughts. 

Colonel Winchester, who had been to see General 
Banks, returned presently and told them that they 
would march again in half an hour. 

“General Banks,” he said with bitter irony, “is 
afraid that a powerful force of the rebels will gain 
his rear and that we shall be surrounded. He ought 
to know. He has had enough dealings with Jackson. 
Outmaneuvered and outflanked again ! Why can’t we 
learn something?” 

But he said this to the young officers only. He 
forced a cheerfulness of tone when he spoke to the 
men, and they dragged themselves wearily to their feet 
in order to begin the retreat. But though the muscles 
were tired the spirit was not unwilling. All the omens 
were sinister, pointing to the need of withdrawal. The 
vicious skirmishers were still busy and a crackling fire 
came from many points in the woods. The occasional 
rolling thunder of a cannon deepened the somberness 
of the scene. 


25 


THE SWORD OF, ANTIETAM 


All the officers of the regiment had lost their horses 
and they walked now with the men. A full moon 
threw a silvery light over the marching troops, who 
strode on in silence, the wounded suppressing their 
groans. A full moon cast a silvery light over the 
pallid faces. 

“Do you know where we are going?” Dick asked 
of the Vermonter. 

“I heard that we’re bound for a place called Cul- 
peper Court House, six or seven miles away. I sup- 
pose we’ll get there in the morning, if Stonewall Jack- 
son doesn’t insist on another interview with us.” 

“There’s enough time in the day for fighting,” said 
Pennington, “without borrowing of the night. Hear 
that big gun over there on our right! Why do they 
want to be firing cannon balls at such a time?” 

They trudged gloomily on, following other regi- 
ments ghostly in the moonlight, and followed by others 
as ghostly. But the sinister omens, the flash of rifle 
firing and the far boom of a cannon, were always on 
their flanks. The impression of Jackson’s skill and 
power which Dick had gained so quickly was deepen- 
ing already. He did not have the slightest doubt now 
that the Southern leader was pressing forward through 
the woods to cut them off. As the sergeant had said 
truly, he came up to his advertisements and more. Dick 
shivered and it was a shiver of apprehension for the 
army, and not for himself. 

In accordance with human nature he and the boy 
officers who were his good comrades talked together, 
but their sentences were short and broken. 


26 


CEDAR MOUNTAIN 


“Marching toward a court house,” said Pennington. 
“What’ll we do when we get there? Lawyers won’t 
help us.” 

“Not so much marching toward a court house as 
marching away from Jackson,” said the Vermonter. 

“We’ll march back again,” said Dick hopefully. 

“But when?” said Pennington. “Look through the 
trees tjiere on our right. Aren’t those rebel troops?” 

Dick’s startled gaze beheld a long line of horsemen 
in gray on their flank and only a few hundred yards 
away. 


CHAPTER II 

AT THE CAPITAL 

T HE Southern cavalry was seen almost at the 
same time by many men in the regiments, and 
nervous and hasty, as was natural at such a 
time, they opened a scattering fire. The horsemen did 
not return the fire, but seemed to melt away in the 
darkness. 

But the shrewdest of the officers, among whom was 
Colonel Winchester, took alarm at this sudden appear- 
ance and disappearance. Dick would have divined 
from their manner, even without their talk, that they 
believed Jackson was at hand. Action followed quick- 
ly. The army stopped and began to seek a strong po- 
sition in the wood. Cannon were drawn up, their 
mouths turned to the side on which the horsemen had 
appeared, and the worn regiments assumed the attitude 
of defense. Dick’s heart throbbed with pride when he 
saw that they were as ready as ever to fight, although 
they had suffered great losses and the bitterest of dis- 
appointments. 

“What I said I’ve got to say over again,” said Pen- 


28 


AT THE CAPITAL 


nington ruefully : “the night's no time for fighting. It's 
heathenish in Stonewall Jackson to follow us, and an- 
noy us in such a way." 

“Such a way! Such a way!" said Dick impatiently. 
“We’ve got to learn to fight as he does. Good God, 
Frank, think of all the sacrifices we are making to save 
our Union, the great republic ! Think how the hateful 
old monarchies will sneer and rejoice if we fall, and 
here in the East our generals just throw our men away 1 
They divide and scatter our armies in such a manner 
that we simply ask to be beaten." 

“Sh ! sh !" said Warner, as he listened to the violent 
outbreak, so unusual on the part of the reserved and 
self-contained lad. “ Here come two generals." 

“Two too many," muttered Dick. A moment or two 
later he was ashamed of himself, not because of what 
he had said, but because he had said it. Then Warner 
seized him by the arm and pointed. 

“A new general, bigger than all the rest, has come," 
he said, “and although I’ve never seen him before I 
know with mathematical certainty that it’s General 
John Pope, commander-in-chief of the Army of Vir- 
ginia." 

Both Dick and Pennington knew instinctively that 
Warner was right. General Pope, a strongly built man 
in early middle years, surrounded by a brilliant staff, 
rode into a little glade in the midst of the troops, and 
summoned to him the leading officers who had taken 
part in the battle. 

Dick and his two comrades stood on one side, but 
they could not keep from hearing what was said and 


29 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


done. In truth they did not seek to avoid hearing, nor 
did many of the young privates who stood near and 
who considered themselves quite as good as their 
officers. 

Pope, florid and full-faced, was in a fine humor. He 
complimented the officers on their valor, spoke as if 
they had won a victory — which would have been a fact 
had others done their duty — and talked slightingly of 
Jackson. The men of the west would show this man 
his match in the art of war. 

Dick listened to it all with bitterness in his heart. 
He had no doubt that Pope was brave, and he could 
see that he was confident. Yet it took something more 
than Confidence to defeat an able enemy. What had 
become of those gray horsemen in the bush? They 
had appeared once and they could appear again. He 
had believed that Jackson himself was at hand, and he 
still believed it. His eyes shifted from Pope to the 
dark woods, which, with their thick foliage, turned 
back the moonlight. 

“George/’ he whispered to Warner, “do you think 
you can see anything among those trees ?” 

“I can make out dimly one or two figures, which no 
doubt are our scouts. Ah-h !” 

The long “Ah-h !” was drawn by a flash and the re- 
port of a rifle. A second and a third report came, and 
then the crash of a heavy fire. The scouts and sentinels 
came running in, reporting that a great force with bat- 
teries, presumably the whole army of Jackson, was at 
hand. 

A deep murmur ran through the Union army, but 


30 


AT THE CAPITAL 


there was no confusion. The long hours of fighting 
had habituated them to danger. They were also too 
tired to become excited, and in addition, they were 
of as stern stuff at night as they had been in the morn- 
ing. They were ready to fight again. 

Formidable columns of troops appeared through the 
woods, their bayonets glistening in the moonlight. The 
heavy rifle fire began once more, although it was near- 
ly midnight, and then came the deep thunder of cannon, 
sending round shot and shells among the Union troops. 
But the men in blue, harried beyond endurance, fought 
back fiercely. They shared the feelings of Pennington. 
They felt that they had been persecuted, that this thing 
. had grown inhuman, and they used rifles and cannon 
with astonishing vigor and energy. 

Two heavy Union batteries replied to the Southern 
cannon, raking the woods with shell, round shot and 
grape, and Dick concluded that in the face of so much 
resolution Jackson would not press an attack at night, 
when every kind of disaster might happen in the dark- 
ness. His own regiment had lain down among the 
leaves, and the men were firing at the flashes on their 
right. Dick looked for General Pope and his brilliant 
staff, but he did not see them. 

“Gone to bring up the reserves, whispered Warner, 
who saw Dick’s inquiring look. 

But the Vermonter’s slur was not wholly true. Pope 
was on his way to his main force, doubtless not really 
believing that Jackson himself was at hand. But the 
little army that he left behind fighting with renewed 
energy and valor broke away from the Southern grasp 


3i 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


and continued its march toward that court house, in 
which the boys could see no merit. Jackson himself, 
knowing what great numbers were ahead, was content 
to swing away and seek for prey elsewhere. 

They emerged from the wood toward morning and 
saw ahead of them great masses of troops in blue. 
They would have shouted with joy, but they were too 
tired. Besides, nearly two thousand of their men were 
killed or wounded, and they had no victory to celebrate. 

Dick ate breakfast with his comrades. The North- 
ern armies nearly always had an abundance of provi- 
sions, and now they were served in plenty. For the 
moment, the physical overcame the mental in Dick. 
It was enough to eat and to rest and to feel secure. 
Thousands of friendly faces were around them, and 
they would not have to fight in either day or dark for 
their lives. Their bones ceased to ache, and the good 
food and the good coffee began to rebuild the worn 
tissues. What did the rest matter? 

After breakfast these men who had marched and 
fought for nearly twenty hours were told to sleep. 
Only one command was needed. It was August, and 
the dry grass and the soft earth were good enough for 
anybody. The three lads, each with an arm under his 
head, slept side by side. At noon they were still sleep- 
ing, and Colonel Winchester, as he was passing, looked 
at the three, but longest at Dick. His gaze was half 
affection, half protection, but it was not the boy alone 
whom he saw. He saw also his fair-haired young 
mother in that little town on the other side of the 
mountains. 


32 


AT THE CAPITAL 


While Dick still slept, the minds of men were at 
work. Pope’s army, hitherto separated, was now called 
together by a battle. Troops from every direction were 
pouring upon the common center. The little army 
which had fought so gallantly the day before now 
amounted to only one-fourth of the whole. McDowell, 
Sigel and many other generals joined Pope, who, with 
the strange faculty of always seeing his enemy too 
small, while McClellan always saw him too large, be- 
gan to feed upon his own sanguine anticipations, and 
to regard as won the great victory that he intended to 
win. He sent telegrams to Washington announcing 
that his triumph at Cedar Run was only the first of a 
series that his army would soon achieve. 

It was late in the afternoon when Dick awoke, and 
he was amazed to see that the sun was far down the 
western sky. But he rubbed his eyes and, remember- 
ing, knew that he had slept at least ten hours. He 
looked down at the relaxed figures of Warner and Pen- 
nington on either side of him. They still slumbered 
soundly, but he decided that they had slept long 
enough. 

“Here, you,” he exclaimed, seizing Warner by the 
collar and dragging him to a sitting position, “look 
at the sun ! Do you realize that you’ve lost a day out 
of your bright young life?” 

Then he seized Pennington by the collar also and 
dragged him up. Both Warner and Pennington 
yawned prodigiously. 

“If I’ve lost a day, and it would seem that I have, 
then I’m glad of it,” replied Warner. “I could afford 


33 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


to lose several in such a pleasant manner. I suppose 
a lot of Stonewall Jackson's men were shooting at me 
while I slept, but I was lucky and didn’t know about 
it.” 

“You talk too long,” said Pennington. “That comes 
of your having taught school. You could talk all day 
to boys younger than yourself, and they were afraid to 
answer back.” 

“Shut up, both of you,” said Dick. “Here comes 
the sergeant, and I think from his look he has some- 
thing to say worth hearing.” 

Sergeant Whitley had cleansed the blood and dust 
from his face, and a handkerchief tied neatly around 
his head covered up the small wound there. He looked 
trim and entirely restored, both mentally and physi- 
cally. 

“Well, sergeant,” said Dick ingratiatingly, “if any- 
thing has happened in this army you’re sure to know: 
of it. We’d have known it ourselves, but we had an 
important engagement with Morpheus, a world away, 
and we had to keep it. Now what is the news ?” 

“I don’t know who Morpheus is,” replied the ser- 
geant, laughing, “but I’d guess from your looks that 
he is another name for sleep. There is no news of 
anything big happenin’. We’ve got a great army here, 
and Jackson remains near our battlefield of yesterday. 
I should say that we number at least fifty thousand 
men, or about twice the rebels.” 

“Then why don’t we march against ’em at once ?” 

The sergeant shrugged his shoulders. It was not for 
him to tell why generals did not do things. 


34 


AT THE CAPITAL 


“I think, ” he said, “that we’re likely to stay here a 
day or two.” 

“Which means,” said Dick, his alert mind interpret- 
ing at once, “that our generals don’t know what to do. 
Why is it that they always seem paralyzed when they 
get in front of Stonewall Jackson? He’s only a man 
like the rest of them !” 

He spoke with perfect freedom in the presence of 
Sergeant Whitley, knowing that he would repeat 
nothing. 

“A man, yes,” said Warner, in his precise manner, 
“but not exactly like the others. He seems to have 
more of the lightning flash about him. What a pity 
such a leader should be on the wrong side! Perhaps 
we’ll have his equal in time.” 

“Is Jackson’s army just sitting still?” asked Dick. 

“So far as scouts can gather, an’ I’ve been one of 
them,” replied Sergeant Whitley, “it seems to be just 
campin’. But I wish I knew which way it was goin’ 
to jump. I don’t trust Jackson when he seems to be 
nappin’.” 

But the good sergeant’s doubts were to remain for 
two days at least. The two armies sat still, only two 
miles apart, and sentinels, as was common throughout 
the great war, became friendly with one another. Of- 
ten they met in the woods and exchanged news and 
abundant criticism of generals. At last there was a 
truce to bury the dead who still lay upon the sangui- 
nary field of Cedar Run. 

Dick was in charge of one of these burial parties, 
and toward the close of the day he saw a familiar fig- 


35 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


lire, also in command of a burial party, although it was 
in a gray uniform. His heart began to thump, and he 
uttered a cry of joy. The unexpected, but not the un- 
natural, had happened. 

“Oh, Harry ! Harry !” he shouted. 

The strong young figure in the uniform of a lieu- 
tenant in the Southern army turned in surprise at the 
sound of a familiar voice, and stood, staring. 

“Dick! Dick Mason!” he cried. Then the two 
sprang forward and grasped the hands of each other. 
There was no display of emotion — they were of the 
stern American stock, taught not to show its feelings — 
but their eyes showed their gladness. 

“Harry,” said Dick, “I knew that you had been with 
Jackson, but I had no way of knowing until a moment 
ago that you were yet alive.” 

“Nor I you, Dick. I thought you were in the west.” 

“I was, but after Shiloh, some of us came east to 
help. It seemed after the Seven Days that we were 
needed more here than in the west.” 

“You never said truer words, Dick. They’ll need 
you and many more thousands like you. Why, Dick, 
we’re not led here by a man, we’re led by a thunder- 
bolt. I’m on his staff, I see him every day. He talks 
to me, and I talk to him. I tell you, Dick, it’s a won- 
derful thing to serve such a genius. You ca t beat 
him ! His kind appears only a f ew times in the ages. 
He always knows what’s to be done and he does it. 
Even if your generals knew what ought to be done, 
most likely they’d do something else.” 

Harry’s face glowed with enthusiasm as he spoke 

36 



“ ‘ General Pope’s tent! Where is it?’ ” 






AT THE CAPITAL 


of his hero, and Dick, looking at him, shook his head 
sadly. 

“Tm afraid that what you say is true for the pres- 
ent at least, Harry,” he said. “You beat us now here 
in the east, but don’t forget that we’re winning in the 
west. And don’t forget that here in the east even, 
you can never wear us out. We’ll be coming, always 
coming.” 

“All right, old Sober Sides, we won’t quarrel about 
it. We’ll let time settle it. Here come some friends 
of mine whom I want you to know. Curious that you 
should meet them at such a time.” 

Two other young lieutenants in gray uniforms at the 
head of burial parties came near in the course of their 
work, and Harry called to them. 

“Tom! Arthur! A moment, please! This is my 
cousin, Dick Mason, a Yankee, though I think he’s 
honest in his folly. Dick, this is Arthur St. Clair, and 
this is Tom Langdon, both friends of mine from South 
Carolina.” 

They shook hands w r armly. There was no animos- 
ity between them. Dick liked the looks and manners 
of Harry’s friends. He could have been their friend, 
too. 

“Harry has talked about you often,” said Happy 
Tom Langdon. “Says you’re a great scholar, and a 
good fellow, all right every way, except the crack in 
your head that makes you a Yankee. I hope you won’t 
get hurt in this unpleasantness, and when our victori- 
ous army comes into Washington we’ll take good care 
of you and release you soon.” 


37 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


Dick smiled. He liked this youth who could keep 
up the spirit of fun among such scenes. 

“Don’t you pay any attention to Langdon, Mr. 
Mason,” said St. Clair. “If he’d only fight as well and 
fast as he talks there’d be no need for the rest of us.” 

“You know you couldn’t win the war without me,” 
said Langdon. 

They talked a little more together, then trumpets 
blew, the work was done and they must withdraw to 
their own armies. They had been engaged in a grew- 
some task, but Dick was glad to the bottom of his 
heart to have been sent upon it. He had learned that 
Harry still lived, and he had met him. He did not 
understand until then how dear his cousin was to him. 
They were more like brothers than cousins. It was 
like the affection their great-grandfathers, Henry 
Ware and Paul Cotter, had felt for each other, although 
those famous heroes of the border had always fought? 
side by side, while their descendants were compelled 
to face each other across a gulf. 

They shook hands and withdrew slowly. At the 
edge of the field, Dick turned to wave another fare- 
well, and he found that Harry, actuated by the same 
motive at the same time, had also turned to make a 
like gesture. Each waved twice, instead of once, and 
then they disappeared among the woods. Dick re- 
turned to Colonel Winchester. 

“While we were under the flag of truce I met my 
cousin, Harry Kenton,” he said. 

“One of the lucky fortunes of war.” 

“Yes, sir, I was very glad to see him. I did not 

38 


AT THE CAPITAL 


know how glad I was until I came away. He says 
that we can never beat Jackson, that nothing but death 
can ever stop him.” 

“Youth often deceives itself, nor is age any excep- 
tion. Never lose hope, Dick.” 

“I don't mean to do so, sir.” 

The next morning, when Dick was with one of the 
outposts, a man of powerful build, wonderfully quick 
and alert in his movements, appeared. His coming was 
so quick and silent that he seemed to rise from the 
earth, and Dick was startled. The man's face was un- 
common. His features were of great strength, the 
eyes being singularly vivid and penetrating. He was 
in civilian’s dress, but he promptly showed a pass from 
General Pope, and Dick volunteered to take him to 
headquarters, where he said he wished to go. 

Dick became conscious as they walked along that 
the man was examining him minutely with those 
searching eyes of his which seemed to look one through 
and through. 

“You are Lieutenant Richard Mason,” said the 
stranger presently, “and you have a cousin, Harry Ken- 
ton, also a lieutenant, but in the army of Stonewall 
Jackson.” 

Dick stared at him in amazement. 

“Everything you say is true,” he said, “but how 
did you know it?” 

“It's my business to know. Knowledge is my sole 
pursuit in this great war, and a most engrossing and 
dangerous task I find it. Yet, I would not leave it. 
My name is Shepard, and I am a spy. You needn’t 


39 


THE SWORD OF AN TIE TAM 


shrink. I’m not ashamed of my occupation. Why 
should I be? I don’t kill. I don’t commit any vio- 
lence. I’m a guide and educator. I and my kind are 
the eyes of an army. W r e show the generals where the 
enemy is, and we tell them his plans. An able and 
daring spy is worth more than many a general. Be- 
sides, he takes the risk of execution, and he can win no 
glory, for he must always remain obscure, if not wholly 
unknown. Which, then, makes the greater sacrifice 
for his country, the spy or the general?” 

“You give me a new point of view. I had not 
thought before how spies risked so much for so little 
reward.” 

Shepard smiled. He saw that in spite of his logic 
Dick yet retained that slight feeling of aversion. The 
boy left him, when they arrived at headquarters, but 
the news that Shepard brought was soon known to the 
whole army. 

Jackson had left his camp. He was gone again, dis- 
appeared into the ether. “Retreated” was the word 
that Pope at once seized upon, and he sent forth happy 
bulletins. Shepard and other scouts and spies re- 
ported a day or two later that Jackson’s army was on 
the Rapidan, one of the numerous Virginia rivers. 
Then Dick accompanied Colonel Winchester, who was 
sent by rail to Washington with dispatches. 

He did not find in the capital the optimism that 
reigned in the mind of Pope. McClellan was with- 
drawing his army from Virginia, but the eyes of the 
nation were turned toward Pope. Many who had 
taken deep thought of the times and of men, were 


40 


AT THE CAPITAL 


more alarmed about Pope than he was about himself. 
They did not like those jubilant dispatches from 
“Headquarters in the Saddle.” There was ominous 
news that Lee himself was marching north, and that 
he and Jackson would soon be together. Anxious eyes 
scanned the hills about Washington. The enemy had 
been very near once before, and he might soon be near 
again. 

Dick had an hour of leisure, and he wandered into 
an old hotel, at which many great men had lived. They 
would point to Henry Clay's famous chair in the lobby, 
and the whole place was thick with memories of Web- 
ster, Calhoun and others who had seemed almost demi- 
gods to their own generation. 

But a different crowd was there now. They were 
mostly paunchy men who talked of contracts and prof- 
its. One, to whom the others paid deference, was fat, 
heavy and of middle age, with a fat, heavy face and 
pouches under his eyes. His small eyes were set close 
together, but they sparkled with shrewdness and cun- 
ning. 

The big man presently noticed the lad who was sit- 
ting quietly in one of the chairs against the wall. 
Dick's was an alien presence there, and doubtless this 
fact had attracted his attention. 

“Good day to you,” said the stranger in a bluff, deep 
voice. “I take it from your uniform, your tan and 
your thinness that you've come from active service.” 

“In both the west and the east,” replied Dick politely. 
“I was at Shiloh, but soon afterward I was transferred 
wdth my regiment to the east.” 


4i 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAll 


“Ah, then, of course, you know what is going on in 
Virginia?” 

“No more than the general public does. I was at 
Cedar Run, which both we and the rebels claim as a 
victory.” 

The man instantly showed a great increase of in- 
terest. 

“Were you ?” he said. “My own information says 
that Banks and Pope were surprised by Jackson and 
that the rebel general has merely drawn off to make 
a bigger jump. Did you get that impression?” 

“Will you tell me why you ask me these questions ?” 
said Dick in the same polite tone. 

“Because I’ve a big stake in the results out there. 
My name is John Watson, and I’m supplying vast 
quantities of shoes and clothing to our troops.” 

Dick turned up the sole of one of his shoes and 
picked thoughtfully at a hole half way through the 
sole. Little pieces of paper came out. 

“I bought these, Mr. Watson, from a sutler in Gen- 
eral Pope’s army,” he said. “I wonder if they came 
from you?” 

A deeper tint flushed the contractor’s cheeks, but in 
a moment he threw off anger. 

“A good joke,” he said jovially. “I see that you’re 
ready of wit, despite your youth. No, those are not 
my shoes. I know dishonest men are making great 
sums out of supplies that are defective or short. A 
great war gives such people many opportunities, but 
I scorn them. I’ll not deny that I seek a fair profit, 
but my chief object is to serve my country. Do you 


42 


AT THE CAPITAL 


ever reflect, my young friend, that the men who clothe 
and feed an army have almost as much to do with win- 
ning the victory as the men who fight ?” 

“I’ve thought of it,” said Dick, wondering what the 
contractor had in mind. 

“What regiment do you belong to, if I may ask? 
My motive in asking these questions is wholly good.” 

“One commanded by Colonel Winchester, recently 
sent from the west. We’ve been in only one battle in 
the east, that fought at Cedar Run against Jackson.” 

Watson again looked at Dick intently. The boy felt 
that he was being measured and weighed by a man of 
uncommon perceptions. Whatever might be his moral 
quality there could be no question of his ability. 

“I am, as I told you before,” said Watson, “a serv- 
ant of my country. A man who feeds and clothes the 
soldiers well is a patriot, while he who feeds and 
clothes them badly is a mere money grubber.” 

He paused, as if he expected Dick to say something, 
but the boy was silent and he went on : 

“It is to the interest of the country that it be served 
well in all departments, particularly in the tremendous 
crisis that we now face. Yet the best patriot cannot 
always get a chance to serve. He needs friends at 
court, as they say. Now this colonel of yours, Colo- 
nel Winchester — Eve observed both him and you, al- 
though I approached you as if I’d never heard of either 
of you before — is a man of character and influence. 
Certain words from him at the right time would be 
of great value, nor would his favorite aide suffer 
through bringing the matter to his attention.” 


43 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


Dick saw clearly now, but he was not impulsive. 
Experience was teaching him, while yet a boy, to speak 
softly. 

“The young aide of whom you speak,” he said, 
“would never think of mentioning such a matter to 
the colonel, of whom you also speak, and even if he 
should, the colonel wouldn’t listen to him for a 
moment.” 

Watson shrugged his shoulders slightly, but made 
no other gesture of displeasure. 

“Doubtless you are well informed about this aide 
and this colonel,” he said, “but it’s a pity. If more 
food is thrown to the sparrows than they can eat, is it 
any harm for other birds to eat the remainder ?” 

“I scarcely regard it as a study in ornithology.” 

“Ornithology? That’s a big word, but I suppose it 
will serve. We’ll drop the matter, and if at any time 
my words here should be quoted I’ll promptly deny 
them. It’s a bad thing for a boy to have his statements 
disputed by a man of years who can command wealth 
and other powerful influences. Unless he had wit- 
nesses nobody would believe the boy. I tell you this, 
my lad, partly for your own good, because I’m inclined 
to like you.” 

Dick stared. There was nothing insulting in the 
man’s tone. He seemed to be thoroughly in earnest. 
Perhaps he regarded his point of view as right, and 
Dick, a boy of thought and resource, saw that it was 
not worth while to make a quarrel. But he resolved 
to remember Watson, feeling that the course of events 
might bring them together again. 


44 


AT THE CAPITAL 


“I suppose it’s as you say,” he said, “You’re a man 
of affairs and you ought to know.” 

Watson smiled at him. Dick felt that the contractor 
had been telling the truth when he said that he was in- 
clined to like him. Perhaps he was honest and supplied 
good materials, when others supplied bad. 

“You will shake hands with me, Mr. Mason,” he 
said. “You think that I will be hostile to you, but 
maybe some day I can prove myself your friend. 
Young soldiers often need friends.” 

His eyes twinkled and his smile widened. In spite 
of his appearance and his proposition, something win- 
ning had suddenly appeared in the manner of this man. 
Dick found himself shaking hands with him. 

“Good-bye, Mr. Mason,” said Watson. “It may be 
that we shall meet on the field, although I shall not be 
within range of the guns.” 

He left the lobby of the hotel, and Dick was rather 
puzzled. It was his first thought to tell Colonel Win- 
chester about him, but he finally decided that Watson’s 
own advice to him to keep silent was best. He and 
Colonel Winchester took the train from Washington 
the next day, and on the day after were with Pope’s 
army on the Rapidan. 

Dick detected at once a feeling of excitement or 
tension in this army, at least among the young officers 
with whom he associated most. They felt that a storm 
of some kind was gathering, either in front or on their 
flank. McClellan’s army was now on the transports, 
leaving behind the Virginia that he had failed to con- 
quer, and Pope’s, with a new commander, was not yet 


45 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


in shape. The moment was propitious for Lee and 
Jackson to strike, and the elusive Jackson was lost 
again. 

“Our scouts discover nothing,” said Warner to Dick. 
“The country is chockfull of hostility to us. Not a 
soul will tell us a word. We have to see a thing with 
our own eyes before we know it's there, but the people, 
the little children even, take news to the rebels. A 
veil is hung before us, but there is none before 
them.” 

“There is one man who is sure to find out about 
Jackson.” 

“Who?” 

Dick’s only answer was a shake of the head. But 
he was thinking of Shepard. He did not see him about 
the camp, and he had no doubt that he was gone on 
another of his dangerous missions. Meanwhile news- 
papers from New York and other great cities reflected 
the doubts of the North. They spoke of Pope’s gran- 
diloquent dispatches, and they wondered what had be- 
come of Lee and Jackson. 

Dick, an intense patriot, passed many bitter mo- 
ments. He, like others, felt that the hand upon the 
reins was not sure. Instead of finding the enemy and 
assailing him with all their strength, they were waiting 
in doubt and alarm to fend off a stroke that would 
come from some unknown point out of the dark. 

The army now lay in one of the finest parts of Vir- 
ginia, a region of picturesque mountains, wide and fer- 
tile valleys, and of many clear creeks and rivers com- 
ing down from the peaks and ridges. To one side lay 

46 


AT THE CAPITAL 


a great forest, known as the Wilderness, destined, with 
the country near it, to become the greatest battlefield 
of the world. Here, the terrible battles of the Second 
Manassas, Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, the Wil- 
derness, Spottsylvania, and others less sanguinary, but 
great struggles, nevertheless, were to be fought. 

But these were yet in the future, and Dick, much 
as his eyes had been opened, did not yet dream how tre- 
mendous the epic combat was to be. He only knew 
that to-day it was the middle of August, the valleys 
were very hot, but it was shady and cool on the hills 
and mountains. He knew, too, that he was young, and 
that pessimism and gloom could not abide long with 
him. 

He and Warner and Pennington had good horses, 
in place of those that they had lost at Cedar Run, and 
often they rode to the front to see what might be seen 
of the enemy, which at present was nothing. Their 
battlefield at Cedar Run had been reoccupied by North- 
ern troops and Pope was now confirmed in his belief 
that his men had won a victory there. And this vic- 
tory was to be merely a prelude to another and far 
greater one. 

As they rode here and there in search of the enemy, 
Dick came upon familiar ground. Once more he saw 
the field of Manassas which had been lost so hardly 
the year before. He remembered every hill and brook 
and curve of the little river, because they had been 
etched into his brain with steel and fire. How could 
anyone forget that day ? 

“Looks as if we might fight our battle of last year 


47 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


over again, but on a much bigger scale,” he said to 
Warner. 

“Here or hereabouts,” said the Vermonter, “and I 
think we ought to win. They’ve got the better gener- 
als, but we’ve got more men. Besides, our troops are 
becoming experienced and they’ve shown their mettle. 
Dick, here’s a farmer gathering corn. Let’s ask him 
some questions, but I’ll wager you a hundred to one 
before we begin that he knows absolutely nothing 
about the rebel army. In fact, I doubt that he will 
know of its existence.” 

“I won’t take your bet,” said Dick. 

They called to the man, a typical Virginia farmer in 
his shirt sleeves, tall and spare, short whiskers grow- 
ing under his chin. There was not much difference 
between him and his brother farmer in New Eng- 
land. 

“Good-day,” said Warner. 

“Good-day.” 

“You seem to be working hard.” 

“I’ve need to do it. Farm hands are scarce these 
days.” 

“Farming is hard work.” 

“Yes; but it’s a lot safer than some other kinds men 
are doin’ nowadays.” 

“True, no doubt, but have you seen anything of the 
army ?” 

“What army?” 

“The one under Lee and Jackson, the rebel army.” 

“I ain’t heard of no rebel army, mister. I don’t 
know of any such people as rebels.” 

48 


AT THE CAPITAL 


“You call it the Confederate army. Can you tell 
us anything about the Confederate army ?” 

“What Confederate army, mister? I heard last 
month when I went in to the court house that there 
was more than one of them.” 

“I mean the one under Lee and Jackson.” 

“That’s cur’us. A man come ridin’ ’long here 
three or four weeks ago. Mebbe he was a lightnin’- 
rod agent an’ mebbe he had patent medicines to sell, 
he didn’t say, but he did tell me that General Jackson 
was in one place an General Lee was in another. Now 
which army do you mean?” 

“That was nearly a month ago. They are together 
now.” 

“Then, mister, if you know so much more about it 
than I do, what are you askin’ me questions for?” 

“But I want to know about Lee and Jackson. Have 
you seen them ?” 

“Lord bless you, mister, them big generals don’t 
come visitin’ the likes o’ me. You kin see my house 
over thar among the trees. You kin search it if you 
want to, but you won’t find nothin’.” 

“I don’t want to search your house. You can’t 
hide a great army in a house. I want to know if 
you’ve seen the Southern Army. I want to know if 
you’ve heard anything about it.” 

“I ain’t seed it. My sight’s none too good, mister. 
Sometimes the blazin’ sun gits in my eyes and kinder 
blinds me for a long time. Then, too, I’m bad of hear- 
ing but I’m a powerful good sleeper. When I sleep 
I don’t hear nothin’, of course, an’ nothin’ wakes me 


49 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


up. I just sleep on, sometimes dreamin’ beautiful 
dreams. A million men wouldn’t wake me, an’ mebbe 
a dozen armies or so have passed in the night while I 
was sleepin’ so good. I’d tell you anything I know, but 
them that knows nothin’ has nothin’ to tell.” 

Warner’s temper, although he had always practiced 
self-control, had begun to rise, but he checked it, seeing 
that it would be a mere foolish display of weakness in 
the face of the blank wall that confronted him. 

“My friend,” he said with gravity, “I judge from 
the extreme ignorance- you display concerning great 
affairs that you sleep a large part of the time.” 

“Mebbe so, an’ mebbe not. I most gen’ally sleep 
when I’m sleepy. I’ve heard tell there was a big war 
goin’ on in these parts, but this is my land, an’ I’m 
goin’ to stay on it.” 

“A good farmer, if not a good patriot. Good day.” 

“Good day.” 

They rode on and, in spite of themselves, laughed. 

“I’m willing to wager that he knows a lot about Lee 
and Jackson,” said Warner, “but the days of the rack 
and the thumbscrew passed long ago, and there is no 
way to make him tell.” 

“No,” said Dick, “but we ought to find out for our- 
selves.” 

Nevertheless, they discovered nothing. They saw 
no trace of a Southern soldier, nor did they hear news 
of any, and toward nightfall they rode back toward the 
army, much disappointed. The sunset was of uncom- 
mon beauty. The hot day was growing cool. Pleas- 
ant shadows were creeping up in the east. In the west 


50 


AT THE CAPITAL 


a round mountain shouldered its black bulk against 
the sky. Dick looked at it vaguely. He had heard it 
called Clark’s Mountain, and it was about seven miles 
away from the Union army which lay behind the 
Rapidan River. 

Dick liked mountains, and the peak looked beautiful 
against the red and yellow bars of the western horizon. 

“Have you ever been over there?” he said to Pen- 
nington and Warner. 

“No ; but a lot of our scouts have” replied Penning- 
ton. “It’s just a mountain and nothing more. Funny 
how all those peaks and ridges crop up suddenly around 
here out of what seems meant to have been a level 
country.” 

“I like it better because it isn’t level,” said Dick. 
“I’m afraid George and I wouldn’t care much for your 
prairie country which just rolls on forever, almost 
without trees and clear running streams.” 

“You would care for it,” said Pennigton stoutly. 
“You’d miss at first the clear rivers and creeks, but 
then the spell of it would take hold of you. The air 
you breathe isn’t like the air you breathe anywhere 
else.” 

“We've got some air of our own in Vermont that 
we could brag about, if we wanted to,” said Warner, 
defiantly. 

“It’s good, but not as good as ours. And then the 
vast distances, the great spaces take hold of you. And 
there’s the sky so high and so clear. When you come 
away from the great plains you feel cooped up any- 
where else.” 


5i 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


Pennington spoke with enthusiasm, his nostrils dilat- 
ing and his eyes flashing. Dick was impressed. 

“When the war’s over I’m going out there to see 
your plains,” he said. 

“Then you’re coming to see me!” exclaimed Pen- 
nington, with all the impulsive warmth of youth. “And 
George here is coming with you. I won’t show you 
any mountains like the one over there, but boys, west of 
the Platte River, when I was with my father and some 
other men I watched for three days a buffalo herd 
passing. The herd was going north and all the time 
it stretched so far from east to west that it sank under 
each horizon. There must have been millions of them. 
Don’t you think that was something worth seeing?” 

“We’re surely coming,” said Dick, “and you be 
equally sure to have your buffalo herd ready for us 
when we come.” 

“It’ll be there.” 

“Meanwhile, here we are at the Rapidan,” said the 
practical Warner, “and beyond it is our army. Look 
at that long line of fires, boys. Aren’t they cheering? 
A fine big army like ours ought to beat off anything. 
We almost held our own with Jackson himself at Cedar 
Run, and he had two to one.” 

“We will win! We’re bound to win!” said Dick, 
with sudden access of hope. We’ll crush Lee and Jack- 
son, and next summer you and I, George, will be out 
on the western plains with Frank, watching the buffalo 
millions go thundering by!” 

They forded the Rapidan and rejoined their regi- 
ment with nothing to tell. But it was cheerful about 


52 


AT THE CAPITAL 


the fires. Optimism reigned once more in the Army 
of Virginia. McClellan had sent word to Pope that 
he would have plenty of soldiers to face the attack that 
now seemed to be threatened by the South. Brigades 
from the Army of the Potomac would make the Army 
of Virginia invincible. 

Dick having nothing particular to do, sat late with 
his comrades before one of the finest of the fires, and 
he read only cheerful omens in the flames. It was a 
beautiful night. The moon seemed large and near, and 
the sky was full of dancing stars. In the clear night 
Dick saw the black bulk of Clark's Mountain off there 
against the horizon, but he could not see what was be- 
hind it. 


CHAPTER III 


BESIDE THE RIVER 

D ICK was on duty early in the morning when he 
saw a horseman coming at a gallop toward the 
Rapidan. The man was in civilian clothing, 
but his figure seemed familiar. The boy raised his 
glasses, and he saw at once that it was Shepard. He 
saw, too, that he was urging his horse to its utmost 
speed. 

The boy’s heart suddenly began to throb, and there 
was a cold, prickling sensation at the roots of his hair. 
Shepard had made an extraordinary impression upon 
him and he did not believe that the man would be 
coming at such a pace unless he came with great 
news. 

He saw Shepard stop, give the pass word to the 
pickets, then gallop on, ford the river and come straight 
toward the heart of the army. Dick ran forward and 
met him. 

“What is it?” he cried. 

“General Pope’s tent! Where it is! I can’t wait 
a minute.” 


54 


BESIDE THE RIVER 


Dick pointed toward a big marquee, standing in an 
open space, and Shepard leaping from his horse and 
abandoning it entirely, ran toward the marquee. A 
word or two to the sentinels, and he disappeared in- 
side. 

Dick, devoured with curiosity and anxiety, went to 
Colonel Winchester with the story of what he had 
seen. 

“I know of Shepard,” said the colonel. “He is the 
best and most daring spy in the whole service of the 
North. I think you’re right in inferring that he rides 
so fast for good cause.” 

Shepard remained with the commander-in-chief a 
quarter of an hour. When he came forth from the 
tent he regained his horse and rode away without a 
word, going in the direction of Clark’s Mountain. 
But his news was quickly known, because it was of a 
kind that could not be concealed. Pennington came 
running with it to the regiment, his face flushed and 
his eyes big. 

“Look ! Look at the mountain !” he exclaimed. 

“I see it,” said Warner. “I saw it there yesterday, 
too, in exactly the same place.” 

“So did I, but there’s something behind it. Lee and 
Jackson are there with sixty or eighty thousand men ! 
The whole Southern army is only six or seven miles 
away.” 

Even Warner’s face changed. 

“How do you know this ?” he asked. 

“A spy has seen their army. They say he is a man 
whose reports aie never false. At any rate orders 


55 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


have already been issued for us to retreat and I hear 
that we’re going back until we reach the Rappahan- 
nock, behind which we will camp.” 

Dick knew very well now that it was Shepard who 
brought the news, and Pennington’s report about the 
retreat was also soon verified. The whole army was 
soon in motion and a feeling of depression replaced 
the optimism of the night before. The advance had 
been turned into a retreat. Were they to go back 
and forth in this manner forever? But Colonel Win- 
chester spoke hopefully to his young aides and said 
that the retreat was right. 

“We’re drawing out of a trap,” he said, “and time 
is always on our side. The South to win has to hit 
hard and fast, and in this case the Army of the Poto- 
mac and the Army of Virginia may join before Lee 
and Jackson can come up.” 

The lads tried to reconcile themselves, but neverthe- 
less they did not like retreat. Dick with his powerful 
glasses often looked back toward the dark bulk of 
Clark’s Mountain. He saw nothing there, nor any- 
thing in the low country between, save the rear ranks 
of the Union army marching on. 

But Shepard had been right. Lee and Jackson, 
advancing silently and with every avenue of news 
guarded, were there behind the mountain with sixty 
thousand men, flushed with victories, and putting a 
supreme faith in their great commanders who so well 
deserved their trust. The men of the valley and the 
Seven Days, wholly confident, asked only to be led 
against Pope and his army, and most of them expected 


BESIDE THE RIVER 


a battle that very day, while the Northern commander 
was slipping from the well-laid trap. 

Pope’s judgment in this case was good and fortune, 
too, favored him. Before the last of his men had left 
the Rapidan Lee himself, with his staff officers, climbed 
to the summit of Clark’s Mountain. They were armed 
with the best of glasses, but drifting fogs coming down 
from the north spread along the whole side of the 
mountain and hung like a curtain between it and the 
retreating army. None of their glasses could pierce 
the veil, and it was not until nearly night that rising 
winds caught the fog and took it away. Then Lee and 
his generals saw a vast cloud of dust in the northwest 
and they knew that under it marched Pope’s retreating 
army. 

The Southern army was at once ordered forward in 
pursuit and in the night the vanguard, wading the 
Rapidan, followed eagerly. Dick and his comrades did 
not know then that they were followed so closely, but 
they were destined to know it before morning. The 
regiment of Colonel Winchester, one of the best and 
bravest in the whole service, formed a part of the rear- 
guard, and Dick, Warner and Pennington rode with 
their chief. 

The country was broken and they crossed small 
streams. Sometimes they were in open fields, and 
again they passed through long stretches of forest. 
There was a strong force of cavalry with the regiment, 
and the beat of the horses’ hoofs made a steady rolling 
sound which was not unpleasant. 

But Dick found the night full of sinister omens. 


57 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


They had left the Rapidan in such haste that there was 
still a certain confusion of impressions. The gigantic 
scale of everything took hold of him. One hundred 
and fifty thousand men, or near it, were marching 
northward in two armies which could not be many 
miles apart. The darkness and the feeling of tragedy 
soon to come oppressed him. 

He listened eagerly for the sounds of pursuit, but 
the long hours passed and he heard nothing. The rear 
guard did not talk. The men wasted no strength that 
way, but marched stolidly on in the moonlight. Mid- 
night passed and after a while it grew darker. Colonel 
Winchester and his young officers rode at the very 
rear, and Pennington suddenly held up his hand. 

“What is it?” asked Colonel Winchester. 

“Somebody following us, sir. I was trained out on 
the plains to take notice of such things. May I get 
down and put my ear to the ground? I may look 
ridiculous, sir, but I can make sure.” 

“Certainly. Go ahead.” 

Pennington sprang down and put his ear to the road. 
He did not listen long, but when he stood up again he 
said: 

“Horsemen are coming. I can't tell how many, but 
several hundreds at least.” 

“As we’re the very last of our own army, they 
must be Southern cavalry,” said Colonel Winchester. 
“If they want to attack, I dare say our boys are will- 
ing.” 

Very soon they heard clearly the gallop of the cav- 
alry, and the men heard it also. They looked up and 

58 


BESIDE THE RIVER 


turned their faces toward those who must be foes. 
Despite the dimness Dick saw their eyes brighten. 
Colonel Winchester had judged rightly. The boys 
were willing. 

The rear guard turned back and waited, and in a 
few minutes the Southern horsemen came in sight, 
opening fire at once. Their infantry, too, soon ap- 
peared in the woods and fields and the dark hours be- 
fore the dawn were filled with the crackle of small 
arms. 

Dick kept close to Colonel Winchester who anxious- 
ly watched the pursuit, throwing his own regiment 
across the road, and keeping up a heavy fire on the 
enemy. The Union loss was not great as most of the 
firing in the dusk, of necessity, was at random, and 
Dick heard bullets whistling all about him. Some- 
times the bark flew from trees and now and then 
there was a rain of twigs, shorn from the branches by 
the showers of missiles. 

It was arduous work. The men were worn by the 
darkness, the uncertainty and the incessant pursuit. 
The Northern rear guard presented a strong front, 
retreating slowly with its face to the enemy, and al- 
ways disputing the road. Dick meanwhile could hear 
through the crash of the firing the deep rumble of 
Pope's great army with its artillery and thousands of 
wagons continually marching toward the Rappahan- 
nock. His mind became absorbed in a vital question. 
Would Lee and Jackson come up before they could 
reach the bigger river? Would a battle be forced the 
next day while the Union army was in retreat? He, 


59 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


confided his anxieties to Warner who rode by his side. 

“I take it that it’s only a vanguard that’s pursuing 
us,” said the Vermonter. “If they were in great force 
they’d have been pushing harder and harder. We 
must have got a good start before Lee and Jackson 
found us out. We know our Jackson, Dick, and he’d 
have been right on top of us without delay.” 

“That’s right, George. It must be their cavalry 
mostly. I suppose Jeb Stuart is there leading them. 
At any rate we’ll soon know better what’s doing. 
Look there toward the east. Don’t you see a ray of 
light behind that hill ?” 

“I see it, Dick.” 

“Is it the first ray of the morning, or is it just a low 
star?” 

“It’s the dawn, Dick, and mighty glad I am to see it. 
Look how fast it comes !” 

The sun shot up, over the hill. The sky turning to 
silver soon gave way to gold, and the clear August 
light poured in a flood over the rolling country. 

Dick saw ahead of him a vast cloud of dust extend- 
ing miles from east to west, marking where the army 
of Pope pushed on its retreat to the Rappahannock. 
There was no need to search for the Northern force. 
The newest recruit would know that it was here. 

The Southern vanguard was behind them and not 
many hundred yards away. Dick distinctly saw the 
cavalry, riding along the road, and hundreds of skir- 
mishers pushing through the woods and fields. He 
judged that the force did not number many thousands 
and that it could not think of assailing the whole Union 


60 


BESIDE THE RIVER 


army. But with the coming of day the vigor of thei 
attack increased. The skirmishers fired from the sheln 
ter of every tree stump, fence or hillock and the bullets 
pattered about Dick and his comrades. 

The Union rear guard maintained its answering fire, 
but as it was retreating it was at a disadvantage. The 
regiments began to suffer. Many men were wounded. 
The fire became most galling. A sudden charge by 
the rearguard was ordered and it was made with 
spirit. The Southern van was driven back, but when 
the retreat was resumed the skirmishers and the cav- 
alry came forward again, always firing at their retreat- 
ing foe. 

“I judge that it’s going to be a very hot morning,” 
said Colonel Winchester, wiping away a few drops of 
blood, where a bullet had barely touched his face. I 
think the wind of that bullet hurt me more than its 
kiss. There will be no great battle to-day. We can 
see now that they are not yet in strong enough force, 
but we’ll never know a minute’s rest until we’re be- 
hind the Rappahannock. Oh, Dick, if McClellan’s 
army were only here also! This business of retreat- 
ing is as bitter as death itself !” 

Dick saw the pain on his colonel’s face and it was 
reflected on his own. 

“I feel it, sir, in the same way. Our men are just as 
eager as the Johnnies to fight and they are as brave 
and tenacious. What do you think will happen, sir?” 

“We’ll reach the Rappahannock and take refuge be- 
hind it. We command the railroad bridge there, and 
can cross and destroy it afterward. But the river is 


61 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


broad and deep with high banks and the army of the 
memy cannot possibly force the passage in any way 
while we defend it.” 

“And after that, sir?” 

“God alone knows. Look out, Dick, those men are 
aiming at us !” 

Colonel Winchester seized the bridle of Dick’s horse 
and pulled him violently to one side, pulling his own 
horse in the same direction in the same manner. The 
bullets of half a dozen Southern skirmishers, standing 
under the boughs of a beech tree less than two hundred 
yards away, hissed angrily by them. 

“A close call,” said the colonel. “There, they’ve 
been scattered by our own riflemen and one of them 
remains to pay the toll.” 

The reply of the Northern skirmishers had been 
quick, and the gray figure lying prone by the trunk 
of the tree told Dick that the colonel had been right. 
He was shaken by a momentary shudder, but he could 
not long remember one among so many. They rode 
on, leaving the prone figure out of sight, and the 
Southern cavalry and skirmishers pressed forward 
afresh. 

Many of the Union men had food in their saddle 
bags, and supplies were sent back for those who did 
not have it. Colonel Winchester who was now thor- 
oughly cool, advised his officers to eat, even if they felt 
no hunger. 

“I’m hungry enough,” said Pennington to Dick. 
“Out on the plains, where the air is so fresh and so full 
of life I was always hungry, and I suppose I brought 

6 2 


BESIDE THE RIVER 


my appetite here with me. Dick, I’ve opened a can 
of cove oysters, and that’s a great deal for a fellow on 
horseback to do. Here, take your share, and they’ll 
help out that dry bread you’re munching.” 

Dick accepted with thanks. He learned that he, too, 
could eat with a good appetite while bullets were knock- 
ing up dust only twenty yards away. Meanwhile 
there was a steady flash of firing from every wood 
and cornfield behind them. 

As he ate he watched and he saw an amazing panor- 
ama. Miles in front the great cloud of dust, cutting 
across from horizon to horizon swelled slowly on to- 
ward the Rappahannock. Behind them rode the 
Southern cavalry and masses of infantry were press- 
ing forward, too. Far off on either flank rolled the 
pleasant country, its beauty heightened by the loom of 
blue mountains. 

Colonel Winchester had predicted truly. The fight- 
ing between the Northern rearguard, and the Southern 
vanguard never ceased. Every moment the bullets 
were whistling, and occasionally a cannon lent its deep 
roar to the crackling fire of the rifles. Daring detach- 
ments of the Southern cavalry often galloped up and 
charged lagging regiments. And they were driven off 
with equal courage and daring. 

The three boys took especial notice of those cavalry 
bands and began to believe at last that they could 
identify the very men in them. Dick looked for his 
cousin, Harry Kenton. He was sure that he would be 
there in the front — but he did not see him. Instead 
he saw after a while an extraordinary figure on a large 

63 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


black horse, a large man in magnificent uniform, with 
a great plume in his hat. He was nearer to them than 
any other Southern horseman, and he seemed to be 
indifferent to danger. 

“Look ! look ! There's Jeb Stuart I” exclaimed Dick. 
He had heard so much about the famous Stuart and 
his gorgeous uniform that he knew him instinctively, 
and, Warner and Pennington, as their eyes followed 
his pointing finger felt the same conviction. 

Three of the Northern riflemen fired at once at the 
conspicuous target, and Dick breathed a little sigh of 
relief when all their bullets missed. Then the brilliant 
figure turned to one side and was lost in the smoke. 

“Well/' said Pennington. “We’ve seen Stonewall 
Jackson and Jeb Stuart both in battle against us. I 
wonder who will come next.” 

“Lee is due,” said Warner, “ but I doubt whether 
his men will let him expose himself in such a way. 
We’ll have to slip under cover to get a chance of seeing 
him.” 

The hours went on, and the fight between rear guard 
and vanguard never ceased. That column of dust 
miles long was at the same distance in front, continuing 
in its slow course for the river, but the foes in contact 
were having plenty of dust showers of their own. 
Dick’s throat and mouth burned with the dust and 
heat of the pitiless August day, and his bones ached 
with the tension and the long hours in the saddle. 
But his spirit was high. They were holding off the 
Southern cavalry and he felt that they would continue 
to do so. 


64 


BESIDE THE RIVER 


About noon he ate more cold food, and then rode on, 
while the sun blazed and blazed and the dust whirled 
in clouds like the “dust devils” of the desert, continu- 
ally spitting forth bullets instead of sand. Late in 
the afternoon he heard the sound of many trumpets, 
and saw the Southern cavalry getting together in a 
great mass. A warning ran instantly among the 
Union troops and the horsemen in blue and one or two 
infantry regiments drew closer together. 

“They’re going to charge in force,” said Colonel 
Winchester to Dick. “See, our rearguard has lost 
touch with our main army, leaving a side opening be- 
tween. They see this chance and intend to make the 
most of it.” 

“But our men are willing and anxious to meet them,” 
said Dick. “You can see it in their faces.” 

He had made no mistake, as the fire in their rear 
deepened, and they saw the gathering squadrons of 
gray cavalry, a fierce anger seized the retreating Union 
rearguard. Those wasps had been buzzing and sting- 
ing them all day long and they had had enough of it. 
They could fight, and they would, if their officers 
would let them. Now it seemed that the officers were 
willing. 

A deep and menacing mutter of satisfaction ran 
along the whole line. They would , show the South- 
erners what kind of men they were. Colonel Win- 
chester drew his infantry regiment into a small wood 
which at that point skirted the road. 

“There is no doubt that we’ve found it at the right 
time,” said Warner. 


65 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


Both knew that the forest would protect the infantry 
from the fierce charges of the Southern cavalry, while 
proving no obstacle to the Northern defense. His 
own cavalry was gathering in the road ready to meet 
Jeb Stuart and his squadrons. 

The three boys sat on their horses within the cover- 
ing of the trees, and watched eagerly, while the hostile 
forces massed for battle. The Southern cavalry was 
supported by infantry also on its flanks, and once again 
Dick caught sight of Jeb Stuart with his floating plume. 
But that time he was too far away for any of the 
Northern riflemen to reach him with a bullet, and as 
before he disappeared quickly in the clouds of dust and 
smoke which never ceased to float over both forces. 

“Look out ! The charge !” suddenly exclaimed 
Colonel Winchester. 

They heard the thunder of the galloping horses, and 
also the flash of many rifles and carbines. Cavalry 
met cavalry but the men in gray reeled back, and as 
they retreated the Northern infantry in the wood sent 
a deadly fire into the flank of the attacking force. The 
Southern infantry replied, and a fierce battle raged 
along the road and through the woods. Dick heard 
once more the rattling of bullets on bark, and felt the 
twigs falling upon his face as they were shorn off by 
the missiles. 

“We hold the road and we’ll hold it for a while,” 
exclaimed Colonel Winchester, exultation showing in 
his tone. 

“Why can’t we hold it all the time?” Dick could not 
refrain from asking. 


66 


BESIDE THE RIVER 


“Because we are retreating and the Southerners are 
continually coming up, while our army wishes to go 
away.” 

Dick glanced through the trees and saw that great 
clouds of dust still were rolling toward the northwest. 
It must be almost at the Rappahannock now, and he 
began to appreciate what this desperate combat in the 
woods meant. They were holding back the Southern 
army, while their men could cross the river and reform 
behind it. 

The battle swayed back and forth, and it was most 
desperate between the cavalry. The bugles again and 
again called the gray horsemen to the charge, and al- 
though the blue infantry supported their own horse- 
men with a heavy rifle fire, and held the wood un- 
daunted, the Northern rear guard was forced to give 
way at last before the pressure of numbers and attacks 
that would not cease. 

Their own bugles sounded the retreat and they be- 
gan to retire slowly. 

“Do we run again?” exclaimed Pennington, a tear 
ploughing its way through the smoky grime on his 
cheek. 

“No, we don't run,” replied Warner calmly, “We're 
forced back, and the rebels will claim a victory but we 
haven't fought for nothing. Lee and Jackson will 
never get up in time to attack our army before it’s over 
the river.” 

The regiment began its slow retreat. It had not 
suffered much, owing to the shelter of the forest, 
and, full of courage and resolution, it was a formi- 

67 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


dable support on the flank of the slowly retreating 
cavalry. 

The evening was now at hand. The sun was setting 
once more over the Virginia hills destined to be scarred 
so deeply by battle, but attack and defense went on. 
As night came the thudding of cannon added to the 
tumult, and then the three boys saw the Rappahannock, 
a deep and wide stream flowing between high banks 
crested with timber. Ahead of them Pope’s army was 
crossing on the bridge and in boats, and masses of in- 
fantry supported by heavy batteries had turned to pro- 
tect the crossing. The Southern vanguard could not 
assail such a powerful force, and before the night was 
over the whole Union army passed to the Northern 
side of the Rappahannock. 

Dick felt a mixture of chagrin and satisfaction as he 
crossed the river, chagrin that this great army should 
draw back, as McClellan’s had been forced to draw 
back at the Seven Days, and satisfaction that they were 
safe for the time being and could prepare for a new 
start. 

But the feeling of exultation soon passed and gave 
way wholly to chagrin. They were retreating before 
an army not exceeding their own, in numbers, perhaps 
less. They had another great force, the Army of the 
Potomac, which should have been there, and then they 
could have bade defiance to Lee and Jackson. The 
North with its great numbers, it fine courage and its 
splendid patriotism should never be retreating. He 
felt once more as thousands of others felt that the hand 
on the reins was neither strong nor sure, and that the 


BESIDE THE RIVER 

great trouble lay there. They ought not to be hiding 
behind a river. Lee and Jackson did not do it. Dick 
remembered that grim commander in the West, the si- 
lent Grant, and he did not believe he would be retreat- 
ing. 

Long after darkness came the firing continued be- 
tween skirmishers across the stream, but finally it, too, 
waned and Dick was permitted to throw himself upon 
the ground and sleep with the sleeping thousands. 
Warner and Pennington slept near him and not far 
away was the brave sergeant. Even he was over- 
powered by fatigue and he slept like one dead, never 
stirring. 

Dick was awakened next morning by the booming 
of cannon. He had become so much used to such 
sounds that he would have slept on had not the crashes 
been so irregular. He stood up, rubbed his eyes and 
then looked in the direction whence came the cannon- 
ade. He saw from the crest of a hill great numbers 
of Confederate troops on the other side of the river, 
the August sun glittering over thousands of bayonets 
and rifle barrels, and along the somber batteries of 
great guns. The firing, so far as he could deter- 
mine, was merely to feel out or annoy the Northern 
army. 

It was a strange sight to Dick, one that is not 
looked upon often, two great armies gazing across a 
river at each other, and, sure to meet, sooner or later, 
in mortal combat. It was thrilling, awe-inspiring, but 
it made his heart miss a beat or two at the thought of 
the wounds and death to come, all the more terrible 


69 


THE SWORD OF. ANTIETAM 


because those who fought together were of the same 
blood, and the same nation. 

Warner and Pennington joined him on the height 
where he stood, and they saw that in the early hours 
before dawn the Northern generals had not been idle. 
The whole army of Pope was massed along the left 
bank of the river and every high point was crowned 
with heavy batteries of artillery. There had been a 
long drought, and at some points the Rappahannock 
could be forded, but not in the face of such a defence as 
the North here offered. 

Colonel Winchester himself came a moment or two 
later and joined them as they gazed at the two armies 
and the river between. Both he and the boys used 
their glasses and they distinctly saw the Southern 
masses. 

“Will they try to cross, sir?” asked Dick of the 
colonel. 

“I don’t think so, but if they do we ought to beat 
them back. Meanwhile, Dick, my boy, every day’s 
delay is a fresh card in our hand. McClellan is land- 
ing his army at Aquia Creek, whence it can march in 
two days to a junction with us, when we would become 
overwhelming and irresistible. But I wish it didn’t 
take so long to disembark an army !” 

The note of anxiety in his voice did not escape Dick. 

“You wish then to be sure of the junction between 
our two armies before Lee and Jackson strike?” 

“Yes, Dick. That is what is on my mind. The re- 
treat of this army, although it may have caused us 
chagrin, was most opportune. It gave us two chances. 


70 


BESIDE THE RIVER 


when we had but one before. But, Dick, I’m afraid. 
I wouldn’t say this to anybody but you and you must 
not repeat me. I wish I could divine what is in the 
mind of those two men, Lee and Jackson. They sure- 
ly have a plan of some kind, but what is it?” 

“Have we any definite news from the other side, 
sir?” 

‘'Shepard came in this morning. But little ever 
escapes him, and he says that the whole Southern army 
is up. All their best leaders are there. Lee and Jack- 
son and Longstreet and the Hills and Early and Law- 
ton and the others. He says that they are all flushed 
with confidence in their own courage and fighting 
powers and the ability of their leaders. Oh, if only 
the Army of the Potomac would come! If we could 
only stave off battle long enough for it to reach us !” 

“Don’t you think we could do it, sir? Couldn’t 
General Pope retreat on Washington then, and, as they 
continued to follow us, we could turn and spring oa 
them with both armies.” 

But Colonel Winchester shook his head. 

“It would never do,” he said. “All Europe, eager 
to see the Union split, would then help the Confederacy 
in every possible manner. The old monarchies would 
say that despite our superior numbers we’re not able 
to maintain ourselves outside the defenses of Washing- 
ton. And these things would injure us in ways that 
we cannot afford. Remember, Dick, my boy, that 
this republic is the hope of the world, and that we 
must save it.” 

“It will be done, sir/’ said Dick, almost in the tone 


7 1 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 

of a young prophet. “I know the spirit of the men. 
No matter how many defeats are inflicted upon us by 
our own brethren we’ll triumph in the end.” 

“It’s my own feeling, Dick. It cannot, it must not 
be any other way !” 

Dick remained upborne by a confidence in the future 
rather than in the present, and throughout the morning 
he remained with his comrades, under arms, but doing 
little, save to hear the fitful firing which ran along a 
front of several miles. But later in the day a heavy 
crash came from a ford further up the stream. 

Under cover of a great artillery fire Stuart’s cavalry 
dashed into the ford, and drove off the infantry and a 
battery posted to defend it. Then they triumphantly 
placed heavy lines of pickets about the ford on the 
[Union side. 

It was more than the Union lads could stand. A' 
heavy mass of infantry, Colonel Winchester’s regiment 
in the very front of it, marched forward to drive back 
these impertinent horsemen. They charged with so 
much impetuosity that Stuart’s cavalry abandoned such 
dangerous ground. All the pickets were drawn in and 
they retreated in haste across the stream, the water 
foaming up in spurts about them beneath the pursuing 
bullets. 

Then came a silence and a great looking back and 
forth. The threatening armies stared at each other 
across the water, but throughout the afternoon they lay 
idle. The pitiless August sun burned on and the dust 
that had been trodden up by the scores of thousands 
hung in clouds low, but almost motionless. 


72 


BESIDE THE RIVER 


Dick went down into a little creek, emptying into 
the Rappahannock, and bathed his face and hands. 
Hundreds of others were doing the same. The water 
brought a great relief. Then he went back to Colonel 
Winchester and his comrades, and waited patiently 
with them until evening. 

He remembered Colonel Winchester’s words earlier 
in the day, and, as the darkness came, he began to 
wonder what Lee and Jackson were thinking. He be- 
lieved that two such redoubtable commanders must 
have formed a plan by this time, and, perhaps in the 
end, it would be worth a hundred thousand men to 
know it. But he could only stare into the darkness 
and guess and guess. And one guess w r as as good as 
another. 

The night seemed portentous to him. It was full of 
sinister omens. He strove to pierce the darkness on 
the other shore with his eyes, and see what was going 
on there, but he distinguished only a black background 
and the dim light of fires. 

Dick was not wrong. The Confederate commanders 
did have a plan and the omens which seemed sinis- 
ter to him were sinister in fact. Jackson with his 
forces was marching up his side of the Rappahannock 
and the great brain under the old slouch hat was work- 
ing hard. 

When Lee and Jackson found that the Union army 
on the Rapidan had slipped away from them they felt 
that they had wasted a great opportunity to strike the 
retreating force before it reached the Rappahannock, 
and that, as they followed, the situation of the Con- 


73 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


federacy would become most critical. They would 
leave McClellan and the Army of the Potomac nearer 
to Richmond, their own capital, than they were. 
Nevertheless Lee, full of daring despite his years, 
followed, and the dangers were growing thicker every 
hour around Pope. 

Dick, with his regiment, moved the next morning 
up the river. The enemy was in plain view beyond 
the stream, and Shepard and the other spies reported 
that the Southern army showed no signs of retiring. 
But Shepard had said also that he would not be able 
to cross the river again. The hostile scouts and sharp- 
shooters had become too vigilant. Yet he was sure 
that Lee and Jackson would attempt to force a pas- 
sage higher up, where the drought had made good 
fords. 

“It’s well that we’re showing vigilance,” said Colonel 
Winchester to Dick. He had fallen into the habit of 
talking much and confidentially to the boy, because he 
liked and trusted him, and for another reason which 
to Dick was yet in the background. 

“Do you feel sure that the rebels will attempt the 
crossing?” asked Dick. 

“Beyond a doubt. They have every reason to strike 
before the Army of the Potomac can come. Besides, 
it is in accord with the character of their generals. 
Both Lee and Jackson are always for the swift offen- 
sive, and Early, Longstreet and the Hills are the same 
way. Hear that booming ahead! They’re attacking 
one of the fords now!” 

At a ford a mile above and also at another a mile 
74 


BESIDE THE RIVER 


or two further on, the Southern troops had begun a 
heavy fire, and gathered in strong masses were threat- 
ening every moment to attempt the passage. But the 
Union guns posted on hills made a vigorous reply and 
the time passed in heavy cannonades. 

Colonel Winchester, his brows knitted and anxious, 
watched the fire of the cannon. He confided at last 
to his favorite aide his belief that what lay behind the 
cannonade was more important than the cannonade it- 
self. 

“It must be a feint or a blind,” he said. “They fire 
a great deal, but they don’t make any dash for the 
stream. Now, the rebels haven’t ammunition to 
waste.” 

“Then what do you think they’re up to, sir?” 

“They must be sending a heavy force higher up 
the river to cross where there is no resistance. And 
we must meet them there, with my regiment only, if 
we can obtain no other men.” 

The colonel obtained leave to go up the Rappahan- 
nock until nightfall, but only his own regiment, now 
reduced to less than four hundred men, was allotted to 
him. In truth his division commander thought his 
purpose useless, but yielded to the insistence of Win- 
chester who was known to be an officer of great merit. 
It seemed to the Union generals that they must defend 
the fords where the Southern army lay massed before 
them. 

Dick learned that there was a little place called 
Sulphur Springs some miles ahead, and that the river 
there was spanned by a bridge which the Union cavalry 


75 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


had wrecked the day before. He divined at once that 
Colonel Winchester had that ford in mind, and he 
was glad to be with him on the march to it. 

They left behind them the sound of the cannonade 
which they learned afterward was being carried on by 
Longstreet, and followed the course of the stream as 
fast as they could over the hills and through the woods. 
But with so many obstacles they made slow progress, 
and, in the close heat, the men soon grew breathless. 
It was also late in the afternoon and Dick was quite 
sure that they would not reach Sulphur Springs before 
nightfall. 

“I’ve felt exactly this same air on the great plains,” 
said Pennington, as they stopped on the crest of a hill 
for the troops to rest a little. “It’s heavy and close as 
if it were being all crowded together. It makes your 
lungs work twice as hard as usual, and it’s also a sign.” 

“Tell your sign, old weather sharp,” said Warner. 

“It’s simple enough. The sign may not be so 
strong here, but it applies just as it does on the great 
plains. It means that a storm is coming. Anybody 
could tell that. Look there, in the southwest. See 
that cloud edging itself over the horizon. Things will 
turn loose to-night. Don’t you say the same, sergeant ? 
[You’ve been out in my country.” 

Sergeant Whitley was standing near them regarding 
the cloud attentively. 

“Yes, Mr. Pennington,” he replied. “I was out 
there a long time and I’d rather be there now fighting 
the Indians, instead of fighting our own people, al- 
though no other choice was left me. I’ve seen some 


BESIDE THE RIVER 


terrible hurricanes on the plains, winds that would cut 
the earth as if it was done with a ploughshare, and 
these armies are going to be rained on mighty hard 
to-night.” 

Dick smiled a little at the sergeant’s solemn tone, 
and formal words, but he saw that he was very much 
in earnest. Nor was he one to underrate weather ef- 
fects upon movements in war. 

‘‘What will it mean to the two armies, sergeant?” 
he asked. 

“Depends upon what happens before she busts. If 
a rebel force is then across it’s bad for us, but if it 
ain’t the more water between us an’ them the better. 
This, I take it, is the end of the drought, and a flood 
will come tumbling down from the mountains.” 

The sun now darkened and the clouds gathered 
heavily on the Western horizon. Colonel Winchester’s 
anxiety increased fast. It became evident that the 
regiment could not reach Sulphur Springs until far 
into the night, and, still full of alarms, he resolved to 
take a small detachment, chiefly of his staff, and ride 
forward at the utmost speed. 

He chose about twenty men, including Dick, Warner, 
Pennington, Sergeant Whitley, and another veteran 
who were mounted on the horses of junior officers left 
behind, and pressed forward with speed. A West 
Virginian named Shattuck knew something of the 
country, and led them. 

“What is this place, Sulphur Springs?” asked 
Colonel Winchester of Shattuck. 

“Some big sulphur springs spout out of the bank' 


77 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


and run down to the river. They are fine and healthy 
to drink an’ there’s a lot of cottages built up by people 
who come there to stay a while. But I guess them 
people have gone away. It ain’t no place for health 
just at this time.” 

‘That’s a certainty,” said Colonel Winchester. 

“An’ then there’s the bridge, which, as we know, the 
cavalry has broke down.” 

“Fortunately. But can’t we go a little faster, boys?” 

There was a well defined road and Shattuck now 
led them at a gallop. As they approached the springs 
they checked their speed, ovring to the increasing dark- 
ness. But Dick’s good ears soon told him that some- 
thing was happening at the springs. He heard faint- 
ly the sound of voices, and the clank and rattle which 
many men with weapons cannot keep from making 
now and then. 

“I’m afraid, sir,” he said to Colonel Winchester, 
“that they’re already across.” % 

The little troop stopped at the command of its leader 
and all listened intently. It was very dark now and 
the wood was moaning, but the columns of air came 
directly from the wood, bearing clearly upon their 
crest the noises made by regiments. 

“You’re right, Dick,” said Colonel Winchester, bit- 
ter mortification showing in his tone. “They’re there, 
and they’re on our side of the river. Oh, we might 
have known it! They say that Stonewall Jackson 
never sleeps, and they make no mistake, when they call 
his infantry foot cavalry !” 

Dick was silent. He shared his leader’s intense dis- 


78 


BESIDE THE RIVER 


appointment, but he knew that it was not for him to 
speak at this moment. 

“Mr. Shattuck,” said Colonel Winchester, “how 
near do you think we can approach without being 
seen ?” 

“I know a neck of woods leading within a hundred 
yards of the cottages. If we was to leave our horses 
here with a couple of men we could slip down among 
the trees and bushes, and there ain’t one chance in ten 
that we’d be seen on so dark a night.” 

“Then you lead us. Pawley, you and Woodfall hold 
the horses. Now follow softly, lads! All of you 
have hunted the ’coon and ’possum at night, and you 
should know how to step without making noise.” 

Shattuck advanced with certainty, and the others, 
true to their training, came behind him in single file, 
and without noise. But as they advanced the sounds 
of an army ahead of them increased, and when they 
reached the edge of the covert they saw a great Con- 
federate division on their side of the stream, in full 
possession of the cottages and occupying all the ground 
about them. Many men were at work, restoring the 
wrecked bridge, but the others were eating their sup- 
pers or were at rest. 

“There must be seven or eight thousand men here,” 
said Dick, who did not miss the full significance of the 
fact. 

“So it seems,” said Warner, “and I’m afraid it 
bodes ill for General Pope.” 


CHAPTER IV 

SPRINGING THE TRAP 

L YING close in the bushes the little party watched 
the Southerners making- themselves ready for 
the night. The cottages were prepared for the 
higher officers, but the men stacked arms in the open 
ground all about. As well as they could judge by the 
light of the low fires, soldiers were still crossing the 
river to strengthen the force already on the Union 
side. 

Colonel Winchester suppressed a groan. Dick no- 
ticed that his face was pallid in the uncertain shadows, 
and he understood the agony of spirit that the brave 
man must suffer when he saw that they had been out- 
flanked by their enemy. 

Sergeant Whitley, moving forward a little, touched 
the colonel on the arm. 

“All the clouds that we saw a little further back,” 
he said, “have gathered together, an’ the storm is 
about to bust. See, sir, how fast the Johnnies are 
spreadin’ their tents an’ runnin’ to shelter.” 

“It’s so, sergeant,” said Colonel Winchester. “I was 


80 


SPRINGING THE TRAP 


so much absorbed in watching those men that I thank 
you for reminding me. We’ve seen enough anyway 
and we’d better get back as fast as we can.” 

They hurried through the trees and bushes toward 
their horses, taking no particular pains now to deaden 
their footsteps, since the Southerners themselves were 
making a good deal of noise as they took refuge. 

But the storm was upon them before they could 
reach their horses. The last star was gone and the 
somber clouds covered the whole heavens. The wind 
ceased to moan and the air was heavy with appre- 
hension. Deep and sullen thunder began to mutter on 
the southwestern horizon. Then came a mighty crash 
and a great blaze of lightning seemed to cleave the 
sky straight down the center. 

The lightning and thunder made Dick jump, and for 
a few moments he was blinded by the electric glare. 
He heard a heavy sound of something falling, and ex- 
claimed : 

“Are any of you hurt?” 

“No,” said Warner, who alone heard him, “but we’re 
scared half to death. When a drought breaks up I 
wish it wouldn’t break up with such a terrible fuss. 
Listen to that thunder again, won’t you!” 

There was another terrible crash of thunder and the 
whole sky blazed with lightning. Despite himself Dick 
shrank again. The first bolt had struck a tree which 
had fallen within thirty feet of them, but the second 
left this bit of the woods unscathed. 

A third and a fourth bolt struck somewhere, and 
then came the rush and roar of the rain, driven on by 


81 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


a fierce wind out of the southwest. The close, dense 
heat was swept away, and the first blasts of the rain 
were as cold as ice. The little party was drenched 
in an instant, and every one was shivering through 
and through with combined wet and cold. 

The cessation of the lightning was succeeded by 
pitchy darkness, and the roaring of the wind and rain 
was so great that they called loudly to one another lest 
they lose touch in the blackness. Dick heard Warner 
on his right, and he followed the sound of his voice. 
But before he went much further his foot struck a 
trailing vine, and he fell so hard, his head striking 
the trunk of a tree, that he lay unconscious. 

The cold rain drove so fiercely on the fallen boy’s 
face and body that he revived in two or three min- 
utes, and stood up. He clapped his hand to the left 
side of his head, and felt there a big bump and a sharp 
ache. His weapons were still in his belt and he knew 
that his injuries was not serious, but he heard nothing 
save the drive and roar of the wind and rain. There 
was no calling of voices and no beat of footsteps. 

He divined at once that his comrades, wholly un- 
aware of his fall, when no one could either see or hear 
it, had gone on without missing him. They might also 
mount their horses and gallop away wholly ignorant 
that he was not among them. 

Although he was a little dazed, Dick had a good 
idea of direction and he plunged through the mud 
which was now growing deep toward the little ravine 
in which they had hitched their horses. All were gone, 
including his own mount, and he had no doubt that the 


82 


SPRINGING THE TRAP 


horse had broken or slipped the bridle in the darkness 
and followed the others. 

He stood a while behind the trunk of a great tree, 
trying to shelter himself a little from the rain, and 
listened. But he could hear neither his friends leav- 
ing nor any foes approaching. The storm was of 
uncommon fury. He had never seen one fiercer, and 
knowing that he had little to dread from the Southern- 
ers while it raged he knew also that he must make his 
way on foot, and as best he could, to his own people. 

Making a calculation of the direction and remem- 
bering that one might wander in a curve in the dark- 
ness, he set off down the stream. He meant to keep 
close to the banks of the Rappahannock, and if he 
persisted he would surely come in time to Pope’s army. 
The rain did not abate. Both armies were flooded that 
night, but they could find some measure of protection. 
To the scouts and skirmishers and to Dick, wander- 
ing through the forest nature was an unmitigated foe. 

But nothing could stop the boy. He was resolved to 
get back to the army with the news that a heavy South- 
ern force was across the Rappahannock. Others might 
get there first with the fact, but one never knew. A' 
hundred might fall by the wayside, leaving it to him 
alone to bear the message. 

He stumbled on. He was able to keep his cartridges 
dry in his pouch, but that was all. His wet, cold 
clothes flapped around him and he shivered to the 
bone. He could see only the loom of the black forest 
before him, and sometimes he slipped to the waist in 
swollen brooks. Then the wind shifted and drove the 


S3 


THE SWORD OE ANTIETAM 


sheets of rain, sprinkled with hail, directly in his face. 

He was compelled to stop a while and take refuge 
behind a big oak. While he shivered in the shelter of 
the tree the only things that he thought of spontane- 
ously were dry clothes, hot food, a fire and a warm 
bed. The Union and its fate, gigantic as they were, 
slipped away from his mind, and it took an effort of 
the will to bring them back. 

But his will made the effort, and recalling his mis- 
sion he struggled on again. He had the river on his 
right, and it now became an unfailing guide. It had 
probably been raining much earlier in the mountains 
along the headwaters and the flood was already pouring 
down. The river swished high against its banks and 
once or twice, when he caught dim glimpses of it 
through the trees, he saw a yellow torrent bearing 
much brushwood upon its bosom. 

He had very little idea of his progress. It was 
impossible to judge of pace under such circumstances. 
The army might be ten miles further on or it might be 
only two. Then he found himself sliding down a 
muddy and slippery bank. He grasped at weeds and 
bushes, but they slipped through his hands. Then he 
shot into a creek, swollen by the flood, and went over 
his head. 

He came up, gasping, struck out and reached the 
further shore. Here he found bushes more friendly 
than the others and pulled himself upon the bank. But 
he had lost everything. His belt had broken in his 
struggles, and pistols, small sword and ammunition 
were gone. He would be helpless against an enemy. 

84 


SPRINGING THE TRAP 


Then he laughed at the idea. Surely enemies would 
not be in search of him at such a time and such a 
place. 

Nevertheless when he saw an open space in front of 
him he paused at its edge. He could see well enough 
here to notice a file of dim figures riding slowly by. 
At first his heart leaped up with the belief that they 
were Colonel Winchester and his own people, but they 
were going in the wrong direction, and then he was 
able to discern the bedraggled and faded Confederate 
gray. 

The horsemen were about fifty in number and most 
of them rode with the reins hanging loose on their 
horses' necks. They were wrapped in cloaks, but cloaks 
and uniforms alike were sodden. A stream of water 
ran from every stirrup to the ground. 

Dick looked at them attentively. Near the head of 
the column but on one side rode a soldierly figure, ap- 
parently that of a young man of twenty- three or four. 
Just behind came three youths, and Dick's heart fairly 
leaped when he saw the last of the three. He could 
not mistake the figure, and a turning of the head 
caused him to catch a faint glimpse of the face. Then 
he knew beyond all shadow of doubt. It was Harry 
and he surmised that the other two were his comrades, 
St. Clair and Langdon, whom he had met when they 
were burying the dead. 

Dick was so sodden and cold and wretched that he 
was tempted to call out to them — the sight of Harry 
was like a light in the darkness — but the temptation 
was gone in an instant. His way lay in another di- 

85 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


rection. What they wished he did not wish, and while 
they fought for the triumph of the South it was his 
business to endure and struggle on that he might do 
his own little part for the Union. 

But despite the storm and his sufferings, he drew 
courage from nature itself. While a portion of the 
Southern army was across it must be a minor portion, 
and certainly the major part could not span such a flood 
and attack. The storm and time allied were now 
fighting for Pope. 

He wandered away a little into the open fields in 
order to find easier going, but he came back presently 
to the forest lining the bank of the river, for fear he 
should lose his direction. The yellow torrent of the 
Rappahannock was now his only sure guide and he 
stuck to it. He wondered why the rain and wind did 
not die down. It was not usual for a storm so furious 
to last so long, but he could not see any abatement of 
either. 

He became conscious after a while of a growing 
weakness, but he had recalled all the powers of his will 
and it was triumphant over his body. He trudged on 
on feet that were unconscious of sensation, and his 
face as if the flesh were paralyzed no longer felt the 
beat of the rain. 

A mile or two further and in the swish of the storm 
he heard hoof beats, again. Looking forth from the 
bushes he saw another line of horsemen, but now they 
were going in the direction of Pope’s army. Dick 
recognized these figures. Shapeless as he might ap- 
pear on his horse that was Colonel Winchester, and 


86 


SPRINGING THE TRAP 


there were the broad shoulders of Sergeant Whitley 
and the figures of the others. 

He rushed through the dripping forest and shouted 
in a tone that could be heard above the shriek of wind 
and rain. Colonel Winchester recognized the voice, 
but the light was so dim that he did not recognize 
him from whom it came. Certainly the figure that 
emerged from the forest did not look human. 

“Colonel,” cried Dick, “it is I, Richard Mason, 
whom you left behind l” 

“So it is,” said Sergeant Whitley, keener of eye than 
the others. 

The whole troop set up a shout as Dick came for- 
ward, taking off his dripping cap. 

“Why, Dick, it is you 1” exclaimed Colonel Winches- 
ter in a tone of immeasurable relief. “We missed you 
and your horse and hoped that you were somewhere 
ahead. Your horse must have broken loose in the 
storm. But here, you look as if you were nearly 
dead! Jump up behind me!” 

Dick made an effort, but his strength failed and he 
slipped back to the ground. He had not realized that 
he was walking on his spirit and courage and that 
his strength was gone, so powerful had been the buf- 
fets of the wind and rain. 

The colonel reached down, gave him a hand and a 
strong pull, and with a second effort Dick landed 
astride the horse behind the rider. Then Colonel Win- 
chester gave the word and the sodden file wound on 
again. 

“Dick,” said the colonel, looking back over his shoul- 
87 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


der, “you come as near being a wreck as anything that 
I’ve seen in a long time. It’s lucky we found you.” 

“It is, sir, and I not only look like a wreck but I 
feel like one. But I had made up my mind to reach 
General Pope’s camp, with the news of the Confed- 
erates crossing, and I think I’d have done it.” 

“I know you would. But what a night! What a 
night ! Not many men can be abroad at such a time. 
We have seen nothing.” 

“But I have, sir.” 

“You have! What did you see?” 

“A mile or two back I passed a line of Southern 
horsemen, just as wet and bedraggled as ours.” 

“Might they not have been our own men? It would 
be hard to tell blue and gray apart on such a night.” 

“One could make such a mistake, but in this case it 
was not possible. I saw my own cousin, Harry Ken- 
ton, riding with them. I recognized them perfectly.” 

“Then that settles it. The Confederate scouts and 
cavalry are abroad to-night also, and on our side of the 
river. But they must be few who dare to ride in such 
a storm.” 

“That’s surely true, sir.” 

But both Dick and his commanding officer were mis- 
taken. They still underrated the daring and resolution 
of the Confederate leaders, the extraordinary group 
of men who were the very bloom and flower of Vir- 
ginia’s military glory, the equal of whom — two at least 
being in the very first rank in the world’s history — no 
other country with so small a population has produced 
in so short a time. 


88 


SPRINGING THE TRAP 


Earlier in the day Stuart, full of enterprise, and al- 
most insensible to fatigue, had crossed the Rappahan- 
nock much higher up and at the head of a formidable 
body of his horsemen, unseen by scouts and spies, 
was riding around the Union right. They galloped 
into Warrenton where the people, red hot as usual for 
the South, crowded around them cheering and laughing 
and many of the women crying with joy. It was like 
Jackson and Stuart to drop from the clouds this way 
and to tell them, although the land had been occupied 
by the enemy, that their brave soldiers would come in 
time. 

News, where a Northern force could not have ob- 
tained a word, was poured out for the South. They 
told Stuart that none of the Northern cavalry was 
about, and that Pope's vast supply train was gathered 
at a little point only ten miles to the southeast. Stu- 
art shook his plumed head until his long golden hair 
flew about his neck. Then he laughed aloud and call- 
ing to his equally fiery young officers, told them of 
the great spoil that waited upon quickness and dar- 
ing. 

The whole force galloped away for the supply train, 
but before it reached it the storm fell in all its vio- 
lence upon Stuart and his men. Despite rain and dark- 
ness Stuart pushed on. He said afterward that it was 
the darkest night he had ever seen. A captured negro 
guided them on the final stage of the gallop and just 
when Dick was riding back to camp behind Colonel 
Winchester, Stuart fell like a thunderbolt upon the 
supply train and its guard. 

89 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


Stuart could not drive wholly away the Northern 
guard, which though surprised, fought with great cour- 
age, but he burned the supply train, then galloped off 
with prisoners, and Pope’s own uniform, horses, treas- 
ure chest and dispatch book. He found in the dispatch 
book minute information about the movements of all 
the Union troops, and Pope’s belief that he ought 
to retreat from the river on Washington. Doubtless 
the Confederate horseman shook his head again and 
again and laughed aloud, when he put this book, more 
precious than jewels, inside his gold braided tunic, to 
be taken to Lee and Jackson. 

But these things were all hidden from the little 
group of weary men who rode into Pope’s camp. Colo- 
nel Winchester carried the news of the crossing — Early 
had made it — to the commander, and the rest sought 
the best shelter to be found. Dick was lucky enough 
to be taken into a tent that was thoroughly dry, and 
the sergeant who had followed him managed to obtain 
a supply of dry clothing which would be ready for 
him when he awoke. 

Dick did not revive as usual. He threw all of his 
clothing aside and water flew where it fell, put on dry 
undergarments and crept between warm blankets. Nev- 
ertheless he still felt cold, and he was amazed at his 
own lack of interest in everything. He might have 
perished out there in the stream, but what did it mat- 
ter? He would probably be killed in some battle any- 
way. Besides, their information about the crossing 
of the rebels was of no importance either. The rebels 
might stay on their side of the Rappahannock, or 


90 


SPRINGING THE TRAP 


they might go back. It was all the same either way. 
All things seemed, for the moment, useless to him. 

He began to shiver, but after a while he became so 
hot that he wanted to throw off all the cover. But he 
retained enough knowledge and will not to do so, and 
he sank soon into a feverish doze from which he was 
awakened by the light of a lantern shining in his face. 

He saw Colonel Winchester and another man, a 
stranger, who held a small leather case in his hand. 
But Dick was in such a dull and apathetic state that he 
had no curiosity about them and he shut his eyes to 
keep out the light of the lantern. 

“What is it, doctor?” he heard Colonel Winchester 
asking. 

“Chill and a little fever, brought on by exposure 
and exhaustion. But he’s a hardy youth. Look what 
a chest and shoulders! With the aid of these little 
white pills of mine he’ll be all right in the morning. 
Colonel, Napoleon said that an army fights on its stom- 
ach, which I suppose is true, but in our heavily wa- 
tered and but partly settled country, it must fight some- 
times on a stomach charged with quinine.” 

“I was afraid it might be worse. A dose or two then 
will bring him around?” 

“Wish I could be so sure of a quick cure in every 
case. Here, my lad, take two of these. A big start is 
often a good one.” 

Dick raised his head obediently and took the two 
quinine pills. Soon he sank into a condition which 
was as near stupor as sleep. But before he passed into 
unconsciousness he heard the doctor say : 


9i 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


“Wake him soon enough in the morning, Colonel, to 
take two more. What a wonderful thing for our 
armies that we can get all the quinine we want ! The 
rebel supply, I know, is exhausted. With General 
Quinine on our side we’re bound to win.” 

“But that isn’t the only reason, doctor. Now — ” 
Their voices trailed away as Dick sank into oblivion. 
He had a dim memory of being awakened the next 
morning and of swallowing two more pills, but in a 
minute or two he sank back into a sleep which was 
neither feverish nor troubled. When he awoke the 
dark had come a second time. The fever was wholly 
gone, and his head had ceased to ache. 

Dick felt weak, but angry at himself for having 
broken down at such a time, he sat up and began to 
put on the dry uniform that lay in the tent. Then he 
was astonished to find how great his weakness really 
w r as, but he persevered, and as he slipped on the tunic 
Warner came into the tent. 

“You’ve been asleep a long time,” he said, looking at 
Dick critically. 

“I know it. I suppose I slept all through the night 
as well as the day.” 

“And the great battle was fought without you.” 

Dick started, and looked at his comrade, but War- 
ner’s eyes were twinkling. 

“There’s been no battle, and you know it,” Dick said. 

“No, there hasn’t been any; there won’t be any 
for several days at least. That whopping big rain last 
night did us a service after all. It was Early who 
crossed the river, and now he is in a way cut off from 


92 


SPRINGING THE TRAP 


the rest of the Southern army. We hear that he’ll go 
back to the other side. But Stuart has curved about 
us raided our supply train and destroyed it. And he’s 
done more than that. He’s captured General Pope’s 
important papers.” 

“What does it mean for us?” 

“A delay, but I don’t know anything more. 'I sup- 
pose that whatever is going to happen will happen 
in its own good time. You feel like a man again, don’t 
you Dick ? And you can have the consolation of know- 
ing that nothing has happened all day long when you 
slept.” 

Dick finished his dressing, rejoined his regiment and 
ate supper with the other officers around a fine camp 
fire. He found that he had a good appetite, and as he 
ate strength flowed rapidly back into his veins. He 
gathered from the talk of the older officers that they 
were still hoping for a junction with McClellan before 
Lee and Jackson could attack. They expected at the 
very least to have one hundred and fifty thousand men 
in line, most of them veterans. 

But Dick saw Shepard again that evening. He had 
come from a long journey and he reported great ac- 
tivity in the Southern camp. When Dick said that 
Lee and Jackson would have to fight both Pope and 
McClellan the spy merely replied: 

“Yes, if Pope and McClellan hurry.” 

But Dick learned that night that Pope was not dis- 
couraged. Pie had an army full of fighting power, and 
eager to meet its enemy. He began the next day to 
move up the river in order that he might face Lee’s 


93 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 

whole force as it attempted to cross at the upper fords. 
Their spirits increased as they learned that Early, 
through fear of being cut off, was going back to join 
the main Southern army. 

The ground had now dried up after the great storm, 
but the refreshed earth took on a greener tinge, and 
the air was full of sparkle and life. Dick had not seen 
such elasticity among the troops in a long time. As 
they marched they spoke confidently of victory. One 
regiment took up a song which had appeared in print 
just after the fall of Sumter: 

“Men of the North and West, 

Wake in your might. 

Prepare as the rebels have done 
For the fight. 

You cannot shrink from the test; 

Rise ! Men of the North and West.” 

Another regiment took up the song, and soon many 
thousands were singing it ; those who did not know the 
words following the others. Dick felt his heart beat 
and his courage mount high, as he sang with Warner 
and Pennington the last verse : 

“Not with words ; they laugh them to scorn, 

And tears they despise. 

But with swords in your hands 
And death in your eyes ! 

Strike home ! Leave to God all the rest ; 

Strike! Men of the North and West!” 

The song sung by so many men rolled off across the 
fields, and the woods and the hills gave back the echo. 


94 


SPRINGING THE TRAP 


“We will strike home!” exclaimed Dick, putting 
great emphasis on the “will.” “Our time for victory 
is at hand.” 

“The other side may think they’re striking home, 
too,” said Warner, speaking according to the direct- 
ness of his dry mathematical mind. “Then I suppose 
it will be a case of victory for the one that strikes the 
harder for home.” 

“That’s a fine old mind of yours. Don’t you ever 
feel any enthusiasm ?”. 

“I do, when the figures warrant it. But I must 
reckon everything with care before I permit myself 
to feel joy.” 

“I’m glad I’m not like you, Mr. Arithmetic, Mr. 
Algebra, Mr. Geometry and Mr. Trigonometry.” 

“You mustn’t make fun of such serious matters, 
Dick. It would be a noble thing to be the greatest 
professor of mathematics in the world.” 

“Of course, George, but we wouldn’t need him at 
this minute. But here we are back at those cottages in 
which I saw the Southern officers sheltering themselves. 
Well, they’re ours again and I take it as a good omen.” 

“Yes, here we rest, as the French general said, but 
I don’t know that I care about resting much more. 
I’ve had about all I want of it.” 

Nevertheless they spent the day quietly at the Sul- 
phur Springs, and lay down in peace that night. But 
the storm cloud, the blackest storm cloud of the whole 
war so far, was gathering. 

Lee, knowing the danger of the junction between 
Pope and McClellan had resolved to hazard all on a 


95 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


single stroke. He would divide his army. Jackson, so 
well called “the striking arm,” would pass far around 
through the maze of hills and mountains and fall like 
a thunderbolt upon Pope’s flank. At the sound of his 
guns Lee himself would attack in front. 

As Dick and his young comrades lay down to sleep 
this march, the greatest of Stonewall Jackson’s fa- 
mous turning movements, had begun already. Jack- 
son was on his horse, Little Sorrel, his old slouch hat 
drawn down over his eyes, his head bent forward a 
little, and the great brain thinking, always thinking. 
His face was turned to the North. 

Just a little behind Jackson rode one of his most 
trusted aides, Harry Kenton, a mere youth in years, 
but already a veteran in service. Not far away was 
the gallant young Sherburne at the head of his troop 
of cavalry, and in the first brigade was the regiment 
of the Invincibles led by Colonel Leonidas Talbot and 
Lieutenant Colonel Hector St. Hilaire. Never had 
the two colonels seemed more prim and precise, and 
not even in youth had the fire of battle ever burned 
more brightly in their bosoms. 

Jackson meant to pass around his enemy’s right, 
crossing the Bull Run Mountain at Thoroughfare Gap, 
then strike the railway in Pope’s rear. Longstreet, one 
of the heaviest hitters of the South, meanwhile was 
to worry Pope incessantly along the line of the Rap- 
pahannock, and when Jackson attacked they were to 
drive him toward the northeast* and away from Mc- 
Clellan. 

The hot August night was one of the most mo- 
96 


SPRINGING THE TRAP 


mentous in American history, and the next few days 
were to see the Union in greater danger than it has 
ever stood either before or since. Perhaps it was not 
given to the actors in the drama to know it then, but 
the retrospect shows it now. The North had not at- 
tained its full fighting strength, and the genius of the 
two great Southern commanders was at the zenith, 
while behind them stood a group of generals, full of 
talent and fearless of death. 

Jackson had been directly before Sulphur Springs 
where Dick lay with the division to which he belonged. 
But Jackson, under cover of the darkness, had slipped 
away and the division of Longstreet had taken its place 
so quietly that the Union scouts and spies, including 
Shepard himself, did not know the difference. 

Jackson’s army marched swiftly and silently, while 
that of Pope slept. The plan of Lee was complicated 
and delicate to the last degree, but Jackson, the main- 
spring in this organism, never doubted that he could 
carry it out. His division soon left the rest of the 
army far behind, as they marched steadily on over the 
hills, the fate of the nation almost in the hollow of 
their hands. 

The foot cavalry of Jackson were proud of their abil- 
ity that night. They carried only three days’ rations, 
expecting to feed off the enemy at the end of that 
time. Near midnight they lay down and slept a while, 
but long before dawn they were in line again march- 
ing over the hills and across the mountains. There 
were skirmishers in advance on either side, but they 
met no Union scouts. The march of Jackson’s great 


97 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


fighting column was still unseen and unsuspected. A 
single Union scout or a message carried by a woman 
or child might destroy the whole plan, as a grain of 
dust stops all the wheels and levers of a watch, but 
neither the scout, the woman nor the child appeared. 

Toward dawn the marching Southerners heard far 
behind them the thunder of guns along the Rappahan- 
nock. They knew that Longstreet had opened with 
his batteries across the river, and that those of Pope 
were replying. The men looked at one another. There 
was a deep feeling of excitement and suspense among 
them. They did not know what all this marching 
meant, but they had learned to trust the man who led 
them. He had led them only to victory, and they did 
not doubt that he was doing so again. 

The march never paused for an instant. On they 
went, and the sound of the great guns behind them 
grew fainter and fainter until it faded away. Where 
were they going? Was it a raid on Washington? 
Were they to hurl themselves upon Pope’s rear, or 
was there some new army that they were to destroy? 

Up swept the sun and the coolness left by" the storm 
disappeared. The August day began to blaze again 
with fierce burning heat, but there was no complaint 
among Jackson’s men. They knew now that they were 
on one of his great turning movements, on a far greater 
scale than any hitherto, and full of confidence, they 
followed in the wake of Little Sorrel. 

In the daylight now Jackson had scouts and skir- 
mishers far in front and on either flank. They were to 
blaze the way for the army and they made a far out- 

98 


SPRINGING THE TRAP 


flung line, through which no hostile scout could pass 
and see the marching army within. At the close of the 
day they were still marching, and when the sun was 
setting Jackson stood by the dusty roadside and 
watched his men as they passed. For the first time in 
that long march they broke through restraint and 
thundering cheers swept along the whole line as they 
took off their caps to the man whom they deemed at 
once their friend and a very god of war. The stern 
Jackson giving way so seldom to emotion was heard 
to say to himself : 

“Who can fail to win battles with such men as 
these?” 

Jackson's column did not stop until midnight. 
They had been more than twenty- four hours on the 
march, and they had not seen a hostile soldier. Harry 
Kenton himself did not know where they were going. 
But he lay down and gratefully, like the others, took 
the rest that was allowed to him. But a few hours 
only and they were marching again under a starry 
sky. Morning showed the forest lining the slopes of 
the mountains and then all the men seemd to realize 
suddenly which way they were going. 

This was the road that led to Pope. It was not 
Washington, or Winchester, or some unknown army, 
but their foe on the Rappahannock that they were 
going to strike. A deep murmur of joy ran through 
the ranks, and the men who had now been marching 
thirty hours, with but little rest, suddenly increased 
their speed. Knowledge had brought them new 
strength. 


99 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


They entered the forest and passed into Thorough- 
fare Gap, which leads through Bull Run Mountain. 
The files narrowed now and stretched out in a longer 
line. This was a deep gorge, pines and bushes lining 
the summits and crests. The confined air here was 
closer and hotter than ever, but the men pressed on 
with undiminished speed. 

Harry Kenton felt a certain awe as he rode behind 
Jackson, and looked up at the lofty cliffs that enclosed 
them. The pines along the summit on either side were 
like long, green ribbons, and he half feared to see 
men in blue appear there and open fire on those in 
the gorge below. But reason told him that there was 
no such danger. No Northern force could be on Bull 
Run Mountain. 

Harry had not asked a question during all that 
march. He had not known where they were going, 
but like all the soldiers he had supreme confidence in 
Jackson. He might be going to any of a number of 
places, but the place to which he was going was sure 
to be the right place. Now as he rode in the pass he 
knew that they were bound for the rear of Pope’s 
army. Well, that would be bad for Pope! Harry 
had no doubt of it. 

They passed out of the gap, leaving the moun- 
tain behind them, and swept on through two little vil- 
lages, and over the famous plateau of Manassas Junc- 
tion which many of them had seen before in the fire 
and smoke of the war’s first terrible day. Here were 
the fields and hills over which they had fought and 
won the victory. Harry recognized at once the places 


ioo 


SPRINGING THE TRAP 


which had been burned so vividly into his memory, 
and he considered it a good omen. 

Not so far away was Washington, and so strongly 
was Harry’s imagination impressed that he believed 
he could have seen through powerful glasses and from 
the crest of some tall hill that they passed, the dome 
of the Capitol shining in the August sun? He won- 
dered why there was no attack, nor even any alarm. 
The cloud of dust that so many thousands of march- 
ing men made could be seen for miles. He did not 
know that Sherburne and the fastest of the rough rid- 
ers were now far in front, seizing every Union scout 
or sentinel, and enabling Jackson’s army to march on 
its great turning movement wholly unknown to any 
officer or soldier of the North. Soon he would stand 
squarely between Pope and Washington. 

Before noon, Stuart and his wild horsemen joined 
them and their spirits surged yet higher. All through 
the afternoon the march continued, and at night Jack- 
son fell upon Pope’s vast store of supplies, surprising 
and routing the guard. Taking what he could use he 
set fire to the rest and the vast conflagration filled 
the sky. 

Night came with Jackson standing directly in the 
rear of Pope. The trap had been shut down, and it was 
to be seen whether Pope was strong enough to break 
from it. 


CHAPTER V 


THE SECOND MANASSAS 

T HE sunbeams seemed fairly to dance over the 
dusty earth. The dust was not only over the 
earth, but over everything, men, animals, 
wagons and tents. Dick Mason who had struggled so 
hard through a storm but a few nights ago now longed 
for another like it. Anything to get away from this 
blinding blaze. 

But he soon forgot heat and dust. He was con- 
scious of a great quiver and thrill running through the 
whole army. Something was happening. Something 
had happened, but nobody knew what. Warner and 
Pennington felt the same quiver and thrill, because 
they looked at him as if in inquiry. Colonel Win- 
chester showed it, too. He said nothing, but gazed 
uneasily toward the Northern horizon. Dick found 
himself looking that way also. Along the Rappahan- 
nock there was but little firing now, and he began to 
forget the river which had loomed so large in the 
affairs of the armies. Perhaps the importance of the 
Rappahannock had passed. 


102 


THE SECOND MANASSAS 


It was said that Pope himself with his staff had 
ridden away toward Washington, but Dick did not 
know. Far off toward the capital he saw dust clouds, 
but he concluded that they must be made by marching 
reinforcements. 

The long hot hours dragged and then came a mes- 
senger. It was Shepard who had reported to head- 
quarters and who afterwards came over to the shade 
of a tree where Colonel Winchester and his little staff 
were gathered. He was on the verge of exhaustion. 
He was black under the eyes and the veins of his 
neck were distended. Dust covered him from head to 
foot. He threw himself on the ground and drank 
deeply from a canteen of cool water that Dick handed 
to him. All saw that Shepard, the spy, the man whose 
life was a continual danger, who had never before 
shown emotion, was in a state of excitement, and if 
they waited a little he would speak of his own accord. 

Shepard took the canteen from his lips, drew several 
long deep breaths of relief and said : 

“Do you know what I have seen ?” 

“I don’t, but I infer from your manner, Shepard, 
that it must be of great importance,” said Colonel Win- 
chester. 

“I’ve seen Stonewall Jackson at the head of half of 
Lee’s army behind us! Standing between us and 
Washington !” 

“What! Impossible! How could he get there?” 

“It’s possible, because it’s been done — I’ve seen the 
rebel army behind us. In these civilian clothes of 
mine, I’ve been in their ranks, and I’ve talked with 


103 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


their men. While they were amusing us here on the 
Rappahannock with their cannon, Jackson with the 
best of the army crossed the river higher up, passed 
through Thoroughfare Gap, marching two or three 
days before a soul of ours knew it, and then struck 
our great camp at Bristoe Station.” 

“Shepard, you must be sunstruck !” 

“My mind was never clearer. What I saw at close 
range General Pope himself saw at long range. He 
and his staff and a detachment came near enough to see 
the looting and burning of all our stores — I don’t sup- 
pose so many were ever gathered together before. But 
I was right there. You ought to have seen the sight, 
Colonel, when those ragged rebels who had been living 
on green corn burst into our camp. I’ve heard about 
the Goths and Vandals coming down on Rome and it 
must have been something like it. They ate as I never 
saw anybody eat before, and then throwing away their 
rags they put on our new uniforms which were stored 
there in thousands. At least half the rebel army must 
now be wearing the Union blue. And the way they 
danced about and sang was enough to make a loyal 
man’s heart sick.” 

“You told all this to General Pope?” 

“I did, sir, but I could not make him believe the half 
of it. He insists that it can only be a raiding detach- 
ment, that it is impossible for a great army to have 
come to such a place. But, sir, I was among them. 

I know Stonewall Jackson, and I saw him with my own 
eyes. He was there at the head of thirty thousand 
men, and we’ve already lost stores worth millions and 


104 


THE SECOND MANASSAS 


millions. Jeb Stuart was there, too. I saw him. 
And I saw Munford, who leads Jackson’s cavalry since 
the death of Turner Ashby. Oh, they’ll find out soon 
enough that it’s Jackson. We’re trapped, sir! I tell 
you we’re trapped, and our own commander-in-chief 
won’t believe it. Good God, Colonel, the trap has shut 
down on us and if we get out of it we’ve got to be up 
and doing ! This is no time for waiting !” 

Colonel Winchester saw from the rapidity and em- 
phasis with which Shepard spoke that his excitement 
had increased, but knowing the man’s great devotion 
to the Union he had no rebuke for his plain speech. 

“You have done splendid work, Mr. Shepard,” he 
said, and the commander-in-chief will recognize what 
great risks you have run for the cause. I’ve no doubt 
that the accuracy of your reports will soon be proved.” 

Colonel Winchester in truth believed every word that 
Shepard had said, sinister though they were. He said 
that Jackson was behind them, that he had done the 
great destruction at Bristoe Station and he had not 
the slightest doubt that Jackson was there. 

Shepard flushing a little with gratification at Colonel 
Winchester’s praise quickly recovered his customary 
self possession. Once more he was the iron-willed, 
self-contained man who daily dared everything for 
the cause he served. 

“Thank you, Colonel,” he said, “I’ve got to go out 
and get a little food now. All I say will be proved 
soon enough.” 

The three boys, like Colonel Winchester, did not 
doubt the truth of Shepard’s news, and they looked 


105 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


northeast for the dust clouds which should mark the 
approach of Jackson. 

“We’ve been outmaneuvered,” said Warner to Dick, 
but it’s no reason why we should be outfought.” 

“No, George, it isn’t. We’ve eighty thousand men 
as brave as any in the world, and, from what we hear 
they haven’t as many. We ought to smash their old 
trap all to pieces.” 

“If our generals will only give us a chance.” 

Shepard’s prediction that his news would soon prove 
true was verified almost at once. General Pope him- 
self returned to his army and dispatch after dispatch 
arrived stating that Jackson and his whole force had 
been at Bristoe Station while the Union stores were 
burning. 

“Now is our chance,” said Dick to his comrades, 
“why doesn’t the general move on Jackson at once, 
and destroy him before Lee can come to his help ?” 

“I’m praying for it,” said Warner. 

“From what I hear it’s going to be done,” said Pen- 
nington. 

Their hopes came true. Pope at once took the bold 
course, and marched on Jackson, but the elusive Stone- 
wall was gone. They tramped about in the heat and 
dust in search of him. One portion of the army in- 
cluding Colonel Winchester’s regiment turned off in the 
afternoon toward a place of a few houses called War- 
renton. It lay over toward the Gap through which 
Jackson had gone and while the division ten thousand 
strong did not expect to find anything there it was 
nevertheless ordered to look. 


106 


THE SECOND MANASSAS 


Dick rode by the side of his colonel ready for any 
command, but the mystery, and uncertainty had begun 
to weigh upon him again. It seemed when they had 
the first news that Jackson was behind them, that 
they had a splendid opportunity to turn upon him and 
annihilate him before Lee could come. But he was 
gone. They had looked upon the smoldering ruins of 
their great supply camp, but they had found there no 
trace of a Confederate soldier. Was Harry Kenton 
right, when he told them they could not beat Jackson? 
He asked himself angrily why the man would not stay 
and fight. He believed, too, that he must be off there 
somewhere to the right, and he listened eagerly but 
vainly for the distant throb of guns in the east. 

A cloud of dust hovered over the ten thousand as 
they marched on in the blazing sunshine. The coun- 
try was well peopled, but all the inhabitants had dis- 
appeared save a few, and from not one of these could 
they obtain a scrap of information. 

Dick noticed through the dusty veil a heavy wood on 
their left extending for a long distance. Then as in a 
flash, he saw that the whole forest was filled with 
troops, and he saw also two batteries galloping from it 
toward the crest of a ridge. It occurred to him in- 
stantly that here was the army of Jackson, and others 
who saw had the same instinctive belief. 

There was a flash and roar from the batteries. Shot 
and shell cut through the clouds of dust and among 
the ranks of the men in blue. Now came from the 
forest a vast shout, the defiant rebel yell and nobody 
in the column doubted that Jackson was there. He 


107 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


had swung away toward the Gap, where Lee could 
come to him more readily, and he would fight the 
whole Union army until Lee came up. 

As the roar of the first discharge from the batteries 
was dying swarms of skirmishers sprang up from am- 
bush and poured a storm of bullets upon the Union 
front and flanks. A cry as of anguish arose from 
the column and it reeled back, but the men, many of 
them hardy young farmers from the West, men of 
staunch stuff, were eager to get at the enemy and the 
terrible surprise could not daunt them. Uttering a 
tremendous shout they charged directly upon the 
Southern force. 

It was a case largely of vanguards, the main forces 
not yet having come up, but the two detachments 
charged into each other with a courage and fierceness 
that was astounding. In a minute the woods and 
fields were filled with fire and smoke, and hissing shells 
and bullets. Men fell by hundreds, but neither side 
yielded. The South could not drive away the North 
and the North could not hurl back the South. 

The field of battle became a terrible and deadly vor- 
tex. The fire of the opposing lines blazed in 
the faces of each other. Often they were only three or 
four score yards apart. Ewell, Jackson’s ablest and 
most trusted lieutenant, fell wounded almost to death, 
and lay long upon the field. Other Southern generals 
fell also, and despite their superior numbers they could 
not drive back the North. 

Dick never had much recollection of the combat, save 
a reek of fire and smoke in which men fought. He 


108 


THE SECOND MANASSAS 


saw Colonel Winchester’s horse pitch forward on his 
head and springing from his own he pulled the half- 
stunned colonel to his feet Both leaped aside just in 
time to avoid Dick’s own falling horse, which had 
been slain by a shell. Then the colonel ran up and 
down the lines of his men, waving his sword and en- 
couraging them to stand fast. 

The Southern lines spread out and endeavored to 
overlap the Union men, but they were held back by a 
deep railroad cut and masses of felled timber. The 
combat redoubled in fury. Cannon and rifles together 
made a continuous roar. Both sides seemed to have 
gone mad with the rage of battle. 

The Southern generals astonished at such a resist- 
ance by a smaller force, ordered up more men and 
cannon. The Union troops were slowly pushed back 
by the weight of numbers, but then the night, the 
coming of which neither had noticed, swept down sud- 
denly upon them, leaving fifteen hundred men, nearly 
a third of those engaged, fallen upon the small area 
within which the two vanguards had fought. 

But the Union men did not retreat far. Practically, 
they were holding their ground, when the darkness put 
an end to the battle, and they were full of elation at 
having fought a draw with superior numbers of the 
formidable Jackson. Dick, although exultant, was so 
much exhausted that he threw himself upon the ground 
and panted for breath. When he was able to rise he 
looked for Warner and Pennington and found them 
uninjured. So was Sergeant Whitley, but the ser- 
geant, contrary to his custom, was gloomy. 


109 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


“What’s the matter, sergeant ?” exclaimed Dick in 
surprise. “Didn’t we give ’em a great fight?” 

“Splendid, Mr. Mason, I don’t believe that troops 
ever fought better than ours did. But we’re not many 
here. Where’s all the rest of our army? Scattered, 
while I’m certain that Jackson with twenty-five or 
thirty thousand men is in front of us, with more com- 
ing. We’ll fall back. We’ll have to do it before 
morning.” 

The sergeant on this occasion had the power of 
divination. An hour after midnight the whole force 
which had fought with so much heroism was with- 
drawn. It was a strange night to the whole Union 
army, full of sinister omens. 

Pope, in his quest for Jackson, had heard about 
sunset the booming of guns in the west, but he could 
not believe that the Southern general was there. Many 
of his dispatches had been captured by the hard-rid- 
ing cavalry of Stuart. His own division commanders 
had lost touch with him. It was not possible for him 
to know what to do until morning, and no one could 
tell him. Meanwhile Longstreet was advancing in the 
darkness through the Gap to reinforce Jackson. 

Dick had found another horse belonging to a slain 
owner, and, in the darkness, his heart full of bitter- 
ness, he rode back beside Colonel Winchester toward 
Manassas. Could they never win a big victory in the 
east? The men were brave and tenacious. They had 
proved it over and over again, but they were always 
mismanaged. It seemed to him that they were never 
sent to the right place at the right time. 

no 


THE SECOND MANASSAS 


Nevertheless, many of the Northern generals, able 
and patriotic, achieved great deeds before the dawn of 
that momentous morning. Messengers were riding in 
the darkness in a zealous attempt to gather the forces 
together. There was yet abundant hope that they 
could crush Jackson before Lee came, and in the dark- 
ness brigade after brigade marched toward Warren- 
ton. 

Dick, after tasting all the bitterness of retreat, felt 
his hopes rise again. They had not really been beaten. 
They had fought a superior force of Jackson’s own 
men to a standstill. He could never forget that. He 
cherished it and rolled it under his tongue. It was an 
omen of what was to come. If they could only get 
leaders of the first rank they would soon end the war. 

He found himself laughing aloud in the anticipation 
of what Pope’s Army of Virginia would do in the 
coming day to the rebels. It might even happen 
that McClellan with the Army of the Potomac would 
also come upon the field. And then ! Lee and Jack- 
son thought they had Pope in a trap! Pope and Mc- 
Clellan would have them between the hammer and 
the anvil, and they would be pounded to pieces ! 

“Here, stop that foolishness, Dick! Quit, I say, 
quit it at once !” 

It was Warner who was speaking, and he gripped 
Dick’s arm hard, while he peered anxiously into his 
face. 

“What’s the matter with you ?” he continued. 
“What do you find to laugh at? Besides, I don’t like 
the way you laugh.” 


hi 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


Dick shook himself, and then rubbed his hand across 
his brow. 

“Thanks, George,” he said. “I’m glad you called 
me back to myself. I was thinking what would hap- 
pen to the enemy if McClellan and the Army of the 
Potomac came up also, and I was laughing over it.” 

“Well, the next time, don’t you laugh at a thing 
until it happens. You may have to take your laugh 
back.” 

Dick shook himself again, and the nervous excite- 
ment passed. 

“You always give good advice, George,” he said. 
“Do you know where we are?” 

“I couldn’t name the place, but we’re not so far 
from Warrenton that we can’t get back there in a 
short time and tackle Jackson again. Dick, see all 
those moving lights to right and left of us. They’re 
the brigades coming up in the night. Isn’t it a weird 
and tremendous scene? You and I and Pennington 
will see this night over and over again, many and 
many a time.” 

“It’s so, George,” said Dick, “I feel the truth of 
what you say all through me. Listen to the rumble of 
the cannon wheels! I hear ’em on both sides of us, 
and behind ns, and I’ve no doubt, too, that it’s going 
on before us, where the Southerners are massing their 
batteries. How the lights move! It’s the field of 
Manassas again, and we’re going to win this time!” 

All of Dick’s senses were excited once more, and 
everything he saw was vivid and highly colored. War- 
ner, cool of blood as he habitually was, had no words of 


112 


THE SECOND MANASSAS 


rebuke for him now, because he, too, was affected in 
the same way. The fields and plains of Manassas 
were alive not alone with marching- armies, but the 
ghosts of those who had fallen there the year before 
rose and walked again. 

Despite the darkness everything swelled into life 
again for Dick. Off there was the little river of Man- 
assas, Young’s Branch, the railway station, and the 
Henry House, around which the battle had raged so 
fiercely. They would have won the victory then if it 
had not been for Stonewall Jackson. If he had not 
been there the war would have been ended on that 
sanguinary summer day. 

But Jackson was in front of them now, and they 
had him fast. Lee and Jackson had thought to trap 
Pope, but Jackson himself was in the trap, and they 
would destroy him utterly. His admiration for the 
great Southern general had changed for the time into 
consuming rage. They must overwhelm him, anni- 
hilate him, sweep him from the face of the earth. 

They mounted again and moved back, but did not 
go far. 

“Get down, Dick,” said Colonel Winchester. 
“Here’s food for us, and hot coffee. I don’t remem- 
ber myself how long we’ve been in the saddle and how 
long we’ve been without food, but we mustn’t go into 
battle until we’ve eaten.” 

Dick was the last of the officers to dismount. He, 
too, did not remember how long they had been in the 
saddle. He could not say at that moment, whether it 
had been one night or two. He ate and drank mechan- 


THE SWORD OE ANTIETAM 


ically, but hungrily — the Union army nearly always 
had plenty of stores — and then he felt better and 
stronger. 

A faint bluish tint was appearing under the gray 
horizon in the east. Dick felt the touch of a light 
wind on his forehead. The dawn was coming. 

Yes, the dawn was coming, but it was coming heavy 
with sinister omens and the frown of battle. Before 
the bluish tint in the east had turned to silver Dick 
heard the faint and far thudding of great guns, and 
closer a heavy regular beat which he knew was the 
gallop of cavalry. Surely the North could not fail 
now. Fierce anger against those who would break 
up the Union surged up in him again. 

The gray came at last, driving the bluish tint away, 
and the sun rose hot and bright over the field of Man- 
assas which already had been stained with the blood of 
one fierce battle. But now the armies were far greater. 
Nearly a hundred and fifty thousand men were gather- 
ing for the combat, and Dick was still hoping that Mc- 
Clellan would come with seventy or eighty thousand 
more. But within the Confederate lines, where they 
must always win and never lose, because losing meant 
to lose all there was a stern determination to shatter 
Pope and his superior numbers before McClellan could 
come. Never had the genius and resolution of the 
two great Southern leaders burned more brightly. 

As the brazen sun swung slowly up Dick felt that 
the intense nervous excitement he had felt the night 
before was seizing him again. The officers of the 
regiment remained on foot. Colonel Winchester had 


THE SECOND MANASSAS 


sent their horses away to some cavalrymen who had 
lost their own. He and his staff and other officers, dis- 
mounted, could lead the men better into battle. 

And that it was battle, great and bloody, the young- 
est of them all could see. Never had an August day 
been brighter and hotter. Every object seemed to 
swell into new size in the vivid and burning sunlight. 
Plain before them lay Jackson's army. Two of his 
regiments were between them and a turnpike that Dick 
remembered well. Off to the left ran the dark masses 
in gray, until they ended against a thick wood. In the 
center was a huge battery, and Dick from his position 
could see the mouths of the cannon waiting for them. 

But he also saw the great line of the Northern Army. 
It was both deeper and longer than that of the South, 
and he knew that the men were full of resolve and 
courage. 

“How many have we got here?” Dick heard him- 
self asking Warner. 

“Forty or fifty thousand, I suppose,” he heard War- 
ner replying, “and before night there will be eighty 
thousand. Our line is two miles long now. We ought 
to wrap around Jackson and crush him to death. Lis- 
ten to the bugles! What a mellow note! And how 
they draw men on to death ! And listen to the throb- 
bing of the big cannon, too !” 

Warner's face was flushed. He had become excited, 
as the two armies stood there, and looked at each 
other a moment or two like prize fighters in the ring 
before closing in battle. Then they heard the order 
to charge and far up and down the line their own can- 


THE SWORD OE ANTIETAM 


non opened with a crash so great that Dick and his 
comrades could not hear one another talking. 

Then they charged. The whole army lifted itself 
up and rushed at the enemy, animated by patriotism, 
the fire of battle and the desire for revenge. Among 
the officers were Milroy and Schenck and others who 
had been beaten by Jackson in the valley. There, too, 
was the brigade of Germans whom Jackson had beaten 
at Cross Keyes. Many of them were veterans of the 
sternest discipline known in Europe and they longed 
fiercely for revenge. And there were more Germans, 
too, under Schurz — hired Germans, fighting nearly a 
hundred years before to prevent the Union — and free 
Germans now fighting to save it. 

Driven forward thus by all the motives that sway 
men in battle, the Union army rushed upon Jackson. 
Confident from many victories and trusting absolutely 
in their leader the Southern defense received the mighty 
charge without flinching. The wood now swarmed 
with riflemen and they filled the air with their bullets, 
so many of them that their passage was like the con- 
tinual rush of a hurricane. Along the whole line came 
the same metallic scream, and the great battery in the 
center was a volcano, pouring forth a fiery hurricane 
of shot and shell. 

Dick felt their front lines being shorn. Although 
he was untouched it was an actual physical sensation. 
He could see but little save that fearful blaze in their 
faces, and the cries of the wounded and dying were 
drowned by the awful roar of so many cannon and 
rifles. 


116 


THE SECOND MANASSAS 


The cloud of dust and smoke had become immense 
and overwhelming in an instant, but it was pierced al- 
ways in front by the blaze of fire, and by its flaming 
light Dick saw the long lines of the Southern men, their 
faces gray and fixed, as he knew those of his own com- 
rades were. 

But the charge, brave, even reckless, failed. The 
brigades broke in vain on Jackson’s iron front. 
Riddled by the fire of the great battery and of the rifle- 
men they could not go on and live. The Germans 
had longed for revenge, but they did not get it. The 
South Carolinians fell upon them at the edge of the 
wood and hurled them back. They rallied, and 
charged again, but again they were handled terribly, 
and were forced back by the charging masses of the 
Southerners. 

Dick had been at Shiloh. He had seen the men of 
the west in a great battle, and now he saw the men of 
the east in a battle yet greater. There it had been 
largely in the forest, here it was mostly in the open, 
yet he saw but little more. One of the extraordinary 
features of this battle was dust. Trampled up from 
the dry fields by fighting men in scores of thousands 
it rose in vast floating clouds that permeated every- 
thing. It was even more persistent than the smoke. 
It clogged Dick’s throat. It stung and burnt him like 
powder. Often it filled his eyes so completely that 
for a moment or two he could not see the blaze of the 
canon and rifle fire, almost in his face. 

But as they fell back he felt again that sensation of 
actual physical pain, although he was still untouched. 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


Added to it was an intense mental anguish. They 
were failing ! They had been driven back ! They had 
not crushed Jackson! He forgot all about Colonel 
Winchester, and his comrades Warner and Pennington. 
He forgot all about his own danger in this terrible 
reversal of his hopes, and he began to shout angrily at 
the men to stand. He did not know by and by that no 
sound came from his mouth, that words could not 
come from a throat so choked with dust and burned 
gunpowder. 

But the charge was made again. The thudding 
great guns now told all the Northern divisions where 
Jackson was. The eighty thousand men of Pope 
were crowding forward to attack him, and the batteries 
were galloping over the plateau to add to the volume 
of shot and shell that was poured upon the Southern 
ranks. 

Dick was quite unconscious of the passage of time. 
Hope had sprung anew in his breast. He heard a re- 
port that ten thousand fresh troops under Kearney 
had arrived and were attacking the Southerners in the 
wood. He knew by the immense volume of fire com- 
ing from that point that the report was true, and he 
heard that McDowell, too, would soon be at hand with 
nearly thirty thousand men. 

Then he saw Colonel Winchester, his face a mass of 
grime and his clothing flecked with blood. But he did 
not seem to have suffered any wound and he was calm- 
ly rallying his men. 

“It’s hot !” Dick shouted, why he know not. 

“Yes, my boy, and it will soon be hotter! Look at 

118 


THE SECOND MANASSAS 


the new brigades coming into battle! See them on 
both right and left! Well crush Jackson yet!” 

It was now mid-morning, and neither Colonel Win- 
chester nor any other of the Northern officers facing 
the Southern force knew that Lee and the other South- 
ern army was at hand. The front ranks of Long- 
street were already in battle, and the most difficult and 
dangerous of all tasks was accomplished. Two armies 
coming from points widely divergent, but acting in 
concert had joined upon the field of battle at the very 
moment when the junction meant the most. Lee had 
come, but McClellan and the Army of the Potomac 
were far away. 

Dick heard the trumpets calling again, and once 
more they charged, hurling heavy masses now upon 
the wood, which was held by the Southern general, 
A. P. Hill. Rifle fire gave way to bayonet charges by 
either side, and after swaying back and forth the Union 
men held the wood for a while, but at last they were 
driven out to stay, and as they retreated cannon and 
rifles decimated their ranks. 

The regiment had suffered so terribly that after its 
retreat it was compelled to lie down a while and rest. 
Dick gasped for breath, but he was not as much ex- 
cited as he had been earlier in the day. Perhaps one 
can become hardened to anything. Although he and 
his immediate comrades were resting he could see no 
diminution of the battle. 

As far to left and right as the eye reached, cannon 
and rifles blazed and thundered. In front of their 
own exhausted regiment hundreds of sharpshooters, 

1 19 


THE SWORD OF, ANTIETAM 


creeping forward, were now pouring a deadly fire 
among the Southern troops who held the wood. 
They were men of the west and northwest, accus- 
tomed all their lives to the use of firearms, and if a 
Confederate officer in the forest showed himself for a 
moment it was at the risk of his life. Captains and 
lieutenants fell fast beneath the aim of the sharp- 
shooters. 

The burning sun was at the zenith, pouring fiery 
rays upon the vast conflict which raged along a front 
of two miles. Pope himself was now upon the field 
and his troops were pouring from every point to his 
aid. So deadly was the fire of the sharpshooters that 
they regained the wood, driving out the Southerners 
who had exhausted their cartridges. Hill’s division 
of the Confederates was almost cut to pieces by the 
cannon and rifles, and the Southern leaders from their 
posts on the hills saw brigades and regiments continu- 
ally coming to the help of the North. 

Dick saw or rather felt the fortunes of the North 
rising again, and as his regiment stood up for action 
once more he began to shout with the others in tri- 
umph. The roar of the battle grew so steady that the 
voices of men became audible and articulate beneath it. 

“They shut their trap down upon us, but we’re 
breaking that trap all to pieces,” he heard Pennington 
say. 

“Looks as if we might win a victory,” said the 
cooler Warner. 

Then he heard no more, as they were once again 
upon the enemy who received them almost hand to 


120 


THE SECOND MANASSAS 


hand, and the battle swelled anew. It was now long 
past noon, and in that prodigious canopy of dust and 
fire and smoke it seemed for a while that the Union 
army in truth had shattered the trap. The men in 
gray were borne back by the courage and weight of 
their opponents. Hooker, Kearney, Reynolds and all 
the gallant generals of the North continually urged on 
their troops. Confidence in victory at last passed 
through all the army, and incited it to greater efforts. 

But Jackson was undaunted. Never was he cooler. 
Never did his genius shine more brilliantly. Never 
did any man in all the fury and turmoil of battle, amid 
a thousand conflicting reports and appalling confusion, 
have a keener perception, a greater power to sum up 
what was actually passing, and a better knowledge of 
what to do. 

Lee was a mile away, standing on a wooded hill, 
the bearded Longstreet by his side, watching the battle 
in his immediate front, where accumulating masses 
under Pope’s own eye were gathering. On the other 
flank where Jackson stood and the conflict was heaviest 
he trusted all to his great lieutenant and not in vain. 

Jackson had formed his plan. There came for a 
few moments a lull in the battle which had now lasted 
nine hours, and then gathering a powerful reserve he 
sent them charging through the wood with the bayonet. 
Dick saw the massive line of glittering steel coming on 
at the double quick and he felt his regiment giving 
back. The men could not help it. Physically ex- 
hausted and with ammunition running low they slowly 
yielded the wood. Many of the youths wept with rage, 

121 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


but although they had lost thousands in five desperate 
charges they were compelled to see all five fail. 

Dick, aghast, gazed at Warner through the smoke. 

“It’s true!” gasped Warner, “we didn’t break the 
trap, Dick. But maybe they’ll succeed off there to the 
left ! Our own commander is there, and they say that 
Lee himself has come to the help of Jackson!” 

They had been driven back at all points and their 
own battle was dying, but off to the left it thundered 
a while longer, and then as night suddenly rushed over 
the field it, too, sank, leaving the hostile forces on that 
wing also still face to face, but with the North pushed 
back. 

The coming of night was as sudden to Dick as if it 
had been the abrupt dropping of a great dark blanket. 
In the fury of conflict he had not noticed the gathering 
shadows in the west. The dimness around him, if he 
had taken time to think about it, he would have ascribed 
to the vast columns of dust that eddied and surged 
about. 

Again it was the dust that he felt and remembered. 
The surging back and forth of seven score thousand 
men, the tread of horses and the wheels of hundreds of 
cannon raised it in such quantities that it covered the 
forest and the armies with a vast whitish curtain. 
Even in the darkness it showed dim and ghastly like a 
funeral veil. 

Out of that fatal forest came a dreadful moaning. 
Dick did not know whether it was the wind among the 
leaves or the dying. Once more the ghosts of the 
year before walked the fatal field, but the ghosts of 

122 

/ 


THE SECOND MANASSAS 

this year would be a far greater company. They had 
not broken the trap and Dick knew that the battle was 
far from over. 

It would be renewed in the morning with greater 
fierceness than ever, but he was grateful for the pres- 
ent darkness and rest. He and his comrades had 
thrown themselves upon the ground, and they felt as 
if they could never move again. Their bones did not 
ache. They merely felt dead within them. 

Dick was roused after a long time. The camp cooks 
were bringing food and coffee. He saw a figure lying 
at his feet as still as death, and he shoved it with his 
foot. 

“Get up, Frank,” he said. “You’re not dead.” 

“No, I’m not, but I’m as good as dead. You just 
let me finish dying in peace.” 

Dick shoved him again and Pennington sat up. 
When he saw the food and coffee he suddenly remem- 
bered to be hungry. Warner was already eating and 
drinking. Off to the left they still heard cannon and 
rifles, although the sound was sinking. Occasionally 
flashes from the mouths of the great guns illumined 
the darkness. 

Dick did not know what time it was. He had no 
idea how long he had been lying upon the ground 
panting, the air surcharged with menace and suspense. 
The vast clouds of dust, impregnated with burned gun- 
powder still floated about, and it scorched his mouth' 
and throat as he breathed it. 

The boys, after eating and drinking lay down again. 
They still heard the firing of pickets, but it was no 


123 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 

more than the buzzing of bees to them, and after a 
while they fell into the sleep of nervous and physical 
exhaustion. But while many of the soldiers slept all 
of the generals were awake. 

It was a singular fact but in the night that divided 
the great battle of the Second Manassas into two days 
both sides were full of confidence. Jackson's men, 
who had borne the brunt of the first day, rested upon 
their arms and awaited the dawn with implicit con- 
fidence in their leader. On the other flank Lee and 
Longstreet were massing their men for a fresh at- 
tack. 

The losses within the Union lines were replaced by 
reinforcements. Pope rode among them, sanguine, 
full of hope, telegraphing to Washington that the 
enemy had lost two to his one, and that Lee was re- 
treating toward the mountains. 

Dick slept uneasily through the night, and rose to 
another hot August sun. Then the two armies looked 
at each other and it seemed that each was waiting for 
the other to begin, as the morning hours dragged on 
and only the skirmishers were busy. During this com- 
parative peace, the heavy clouds of dust were not float- 
ing about, and Dick whose body had come to life again 
walked back and forth with his colonel, gazing through 
their glasses at the enemy. He scarcely noticed it, 
but Colonel Winchester's manner toward him had be- 
come paternal. The boy merely ascribed it to the 
friendly feeling an officer would feel for a faithful aide, 
but he knew that he had in his colonel one to whom 
he could speak both as a friend and a protector. Walk- 


124 


THE SECOND MANASSAS 


ing together they talked freely of the enemy who stood 
before them in such an imposing array. 

“Colonel,” said Dick, “do you think General Pope is 
correct in stating that one wing of the Southern army 
is already retreating through Thoroughfare Gap?” 

“I don’t, Dick. I don’t think it is even remotely 
probable. I’m quite sure, too, that we have the whole 
Confederate army in front of us. We’ll have to beat 
both Lee and Jackson, if we can.” 

“Where do you think the main attack will be ?” 

“On Jackson, who is still in front of us. But we 
have waited a long time. It must be full noon now.” 

“It is past noon, sir, but I hear the trumpets, call- 
ing up our men.” 

“They are calling to us, too.” 

The regiment shifted a little to the right, where a 
great column was forming for a direct attack upon 
the Confederate lines. Twenty thousand men stood in 
a vast line and forty thousand were behind them tcv 
march in support. 

Dick had thought that he would be insensible to 
emotions, but his heart began to throb again. The 
spectacle thrilled and awed him — the great army 
marching to the attack and the resolute army awaiting" 
it. Soon he heard behind him the firing of the artillery 
which sent shot and shell over their heads at the enemy. 
A dozen cannon came into action, then twenty, fifty, 
a hundred and more, and the earth trembled with the 
mighty concussion. 

Dick felt the surge of triumph. They had y£t met 
no answering fire. Perhaps General Pope and not 


125 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


Colonel Winchester had been right after all, and 
the Confederates were crushed. Awaiting them was 
only a rear guard which would flee at the first flash 
of the bayonets in the wood. 

The great line marched steadily onward, and the 
cannon thundered and roared over the heads of the 
men raking the wood with steel. Still no reply. Sure- 
ly the sixty thousand Union men would now march 
over everything. They were driving in the swarms 
of skirmishers. Dick could see them retreating every- 
where, in the wood over the hills and along an em- 
bankment. 

Warner was on his right and Pennington on his 
left. Dick glanced at them and he saw the belief in 
speedy victory expressed on the faces of both. It 
seemed to him, too, that nothing could now stop the 
massive columns that Pope was sending forward 
against the thinned ranks of the Confederates. 

They were much nearer and he saw gray lines along 
an embankment and in a wood. Then above the crash 
and thunder of their covering artillery he heard another 
sound. It was the Southern bugles calling with a 
piercing note to their own men just as the Northern' 
trumpets had called. 

Dick saw a great gray multitude suddenly pour for- 
ward. It looked to him in the blur and the smoke like 
an avalanche, and in truth it was a human avalanche, 
a far greater force of the South than they expected to 
meet there. Directly in front of the Union column 
stood the Stonewall Brigade, and all the chosen vet- 
erans of Stonewall Jackson's army. 


126 


THE SECOND MANASSAS 


“It’s a fight, face to face,” Dick heard Colonel Win- 
chester say. 

Then he saw a Union officer, whose name he did 
not know suddenly gallop out in front of the division, 
wave his saber over his head and shout the charge. 
A tremendous rolling cry came from the blue ranks 
and Dick physically felt the whole division leap for- 
ward and rush at the enemy. 

Dick saw the officer who had made himself the 
leader of the charge gallop straight at a breastwork 
that the Southerners had built, reach and stand, horse 
and rider, a moment at the top, then both fall in a 
limp heap. The next instant the officer, not dead but 
wounded, was dragged a prisoner behind the embank- 
ment by generous foes who had refused to shoot at 
him until compelled to do so. 

The Union men, with a roar, followed their cham- 
pion, and Dick felt a very storm burst upon them. 
The Southerners had thrown up earthworks at mid- 
night and thousands of riflemen lying behind them 
sent in a fire at short range that caused the first 
Union line to go down like falling grain. Cannon 
from the wood and elsewhere raked them through and 
through. 

It was a vortex of fire and death. The Confederates 
themselves were losing heavily, but taught by the stern 
Jackson and knowing that his eye was upon them they 
refused to yield. The Northern charge broke on their 
front, but the men did not retreat far. The shrill 
trumpet called them back to the charge, and once more 
the blue masses hurled themselves upon the barrier of 


127 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


fire and steel, to break again, and to come yet a third 
time at the trumpet’s call. Often the combatants were 
within ten yards of one another, but strive as they 
would the Union columns could not break through the 
Confederate defense. 

Elsewhere the men of Hill and Longstreet showed 
a sternness and valor equal to that of Jackson’s. Their 
ranks held firm everywhere, and now, as the long after- 
noon drew on, the eye of Lee, watching every rising 
and falling wave of the battle, saw his chance. He 
drew his batteries together in great masses and as the 
last charge broke on Jackson’s lines the trumpets 
sounded the charge for the Southern troops who hither- 
to had stood on the defensive. 

Dick heard a tremendous shout, the great rebel yell, 
that he had heard so often before, and that he was 
destined to hear so often again. Through the clouds 
of smoke and dust he saw the long lines of Southern 
bayonets advancing swiftly. His regiment, which had 
already lost more than half its numbers, was borne 
back by an appalling weight. 

Then hope deserted the boy for the first time. The 
Union was not to be saved here on this field. It was 
instead another lost Manassas, but far greater than the 
first. The genius of Lee and Jackson which bore up 
the Confederacy was triumphing once again. Dick 
shut his teeth in grim despair. He heard the triumph- 
ant shouts of the advancing enemy, and he saw that 
not only his own regiment, but the whole Northern 
line, was being driven back, slowly it is true, but they 
were going. 


128 


THE SECOND MANASSAS 


Now at the critical moment, Lee was hurling for- 
ward every man and gun. Although his army was 
inferior in numbers he was always superior at the 
point of contact, and his exultant veterans pressed 
harder and harder upon their weakening foes. Only 
the artillery behind them now protected Dick and his 
comrades. But the Confederates still came with a rush. 

Jackson was leading on his own men who had stood 
so long on the defensive. The retreating Union line 
was broken, guns were lost, and there was a vast tur- 
moil and confusion. Yet out of it some order finally 
emerged, and although the Union army was now 
driven back at every point it inflicted heavy losses upon 
its foe, and under the lead of brave commanders great 
masses gathered upon the famous Henry Hill, resolved, 
although they could not prevent defeat, to save the 
army from destruction. 

Night was coming down for the second time upon 
the field of battle, lost to the North, although the North 
was ready to fight again. 

Lee and Jackson looked upon the heavy Union 
masses gathered at the Henry Hill, and then looking at 
the coming darkness they stopped the attack. Night 
heavier than usual came down over the field, covering 
with its friendly veil those who had lost and those 
who had won, and the twenty-five thousand who had 
fallen. 


CHAPTER VI 


THE MOURNFUL FOREST 

AS the night settled down, heavy and dark, and the 
sounds of firing died away along the great line, 
Dick again sank to the ground exhausted. Al- 
though the battle itself had ceased, it seemed to him 
that the drums of his ears still reproduced its thunder 
and roar, or at least the echo of it was left upon the 
brain. 

He lay upon the dry grass, and although the night 
was again hot and breathless, surcharged with smoke 
and dust and fire, he felt a chill that went to the bone, 
and he trembled all over. Then a cold perspiration 
broke out upon him. It was the collapse after two days 
of tremendous exertion, excitement and anxiety. He 
did not move for eight or ten minutes, blind to every- 
thing that was going on about him, and then through 
the darkness he saw Colonel Winchester standing by 
and looking down at him. 

“Are you all right, Dick, my boy?” the colonel 
asked. 

“Yes, sir,” replied Dick, as his pride made him drag 
130 


THE MOURNFUL FOREST 

himself to his feet. “I’m not wounded at all. I was 
just clean played out.” 

“You’re lucky to get off so well,” said the colonel, 
smiling sadly. “We’ve lost many thousands and we’ve 
lost the battle, too. The killed or wounded in my regi- 
ment number more than two-thirds.” 

“Have you seen anything of Warner and Penning- 
ton, sir? I lost sight of them in that last terrible at- 
tack.” 

“Pennington is here. He has had a bullet through 
the fleshy part of his left arm, but he’s so healthy it 
won’t take him long to get well. I’m sorry to say that 
Warner is missing.” 

“Missing, sir? You don’t say that George has been 
killed?” 

“I don’t say it. I’m hoping instead that he’s been 
captured.” 

Dick knew what the colonel meant. In Colonel 
Winchester’s opinion only two things, death or capture, 
could keep Warner from being with them. 

“Maybe he will come in yet,” he said. “We were 
mixed up a good deal when the darkness fell, and he 
may have trouble in finding our position.” 

“That’s true. There are not so many of us left, and 
we do not cover any great area of ground. Lie still, 
Dick, and take a little rest. We don’t know what’s 
going to happen in the night. We may have to do 
more fighting yet, despite the darkness.” 

The colonel’s figure disappeared in the shadow, and 
Dick, following his advice, lay quiet. All around him 
were other forms stretched upon the earth, motion- 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


less. But Dick knew they were not dead, merely sleep- 
ing. His own nervous system was being restored by 
youth and the habit of courage. Yet he felt a personal 
grief, and it grew stronger with returning physical 
strength. Warner, his comrade, knitted to him by ties 
of hardship and danger, was missing, dead no doubt 
in the battle. For the moment he forgot about the 
defeat. All his thoughts were for the brave youth who 
lay out there somewhere, stretched on the dusty field. 

Dick strained his eyes into the darkness, as if by 
straining he might see where Warner lay. He saw, 
indeed, dim fires here and there along a long line, mark- 
ing where the Confederates now stood, or rather lay. 
Then a bitter pang came. It was ground upon which 
the Union army had stood in the morning. 

The rifle fire, which had died down, began again 
in a fitful way. Far off, skirmishers, not satisfied with 
the slaughter of the day, were seeing what harm they 
could do in the dark. Somewhere the plumed and un- 
resting Stuart was charging with his horsemen, driv- 
ing back some portion of the Union army that the Con- 
federate forces might be on their flank in the morning. 

But Dick, as he lay quietly and felt his strength, 
mental and physical, returning, was taking a resolution. 
Down there in front of them and in the darkness was 
the wood upon which they had made five great as- 
saults, all to fail. In front of that mournful forest, and 
within its edge, more than ten thousand men had fallen. 
He had no doubt that Warner was among them. 

His sense of direction was good, and, as his blurred 
faculties regained their normal keenness, he could mark 


132 


THE MOURNFUL FOREST 


the exact line by which they had advanced, and the ex- 
act line by which they had retreated. Warner un- 
questionably lay near the edge of the wood and he must 
seek him. Were it the other way, Warner would do 
the same. 

Dick stood up. He was no longer dizzy, and every 
muscle felt steady and strong. He did not know what 
had become of Colonel Winchester, and his comrades 
still lay upon the ground in a deep stupor. 

It could not be a night of order and precision, with 
every man numbered and in his place, as if they were 
going to begin a battle instead of just having finished 
one, and Dick, leaving his comrades, walked calmly to- 
ward the wood. He passed one sentinel, but a few 
words satisfied him, and he continued to advance. Far 
to right and left he still heard the sound of firing and 
saw the flash of guns, but these facts did not disturb 
him. In front of him lay darkness and silence, with 
the horizon bounded by that saddest of all woods where 
the heaped dead lay. . 

Dick looked back toward the Henry Hill, on the 
slopes of which were the fragments of his own regi- 
ment. Lights were moving there, but they were so 
dim they showed nothing. Then he turned his face to- 
ward the enemy’s position and did not look back again. 

The character of the night was changing. It had 
come on dark and heavy. Hot and breathless like the 
one before, he had taken no notice of the change save 
for the increased darkness. Now he felt a sudden 
damp touch on his face, as if a wet finger had been laid 
there. The faintest of winds had blown for a moment 


133 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


or two, and when Dick looked up, he saw that the sky 
was covered with black clouds. The saddest of woods 
had moved far away, but by some sort of optical illu- 
sion he could yet see it. 

Save for the distant flash of random firing, the dark- 
ness was intense. Every star was gone, and Dick 
moved without any guide. But he needed none. His 
course was fixed. He could not miss the mournful 
wood hanging there like a pall on the horizon. 

His feet struck against something. It was a man, 
but he was past all feeling, and Dick went on, striking 
by and by against many more. It was impossible at 
the moment to see Warner’s face, but he began to feel 
of the figures with his hands. There was none so long 
and slender as Warner’s, and he continued his search, 
moving steadily toward the wood. 

He saw presently a lantern moving over the field, 
and he walked toward it. Three men were with the 
lantern, and the one who carried it held it up as he 
approached. The beams fell directly upon Dick, re- 
vealing his pale face and torn and dusty uniform. 

“What do you want, Yank?” called the man. 

“I’m looking for a friend of mine who must have 
fallen somewhere near here.” 

The man laughed, but it was not a laugh of joy or 
irony. It was a laugh of pity and sadness. 

“You’ve shorely got a big look cornin’,” he said. 
“They’re scattered all around here, coverin’ acres an’ 
acres, just like dead leaves shook by a storm from the 
trees. But j’in us, Yank. You can’t do nothin’ in the 
darkness all by yourself. We’re Johnny Rebs, good 


134 


THE MOURNFUL FOREST 


and true, and I may be shootin’ straight at you to-mor- 
row morning but I reckon I’ve got nothin’ ag’in you 
now. We’re lookin’ for a brother o’ mine.” 

Dick joined them, and the four, the three in gray 
and the one in blue, moved on. A friendly current had 
passed between him and them, and there would be no 
thought of hostility until the morning, when it would 
come again. It was often so in this war, when men 
of the same blood met in the night between battles. 

“What sort of a fellow is it that you’re lookin’ for?” 
asked the man with the lantern. 

“About my age. Very tall and thin. You could 
mark him by his height.” 

“It takes different kinds of people to make the world. 
My brother ain’t like him a-tall. Sam’s short, an’ thick 
as a buffalo. Weighs two twenty with no fat on him. 
What crowd do you belong to, youngster ?” 

“The division on our right. We attacked the wood 
there.” 

“Well, you’re a bully boy. Give me your hand, if 
you are a Yank. You shorely came right up there and 
looked us in the eyes. How often did you charge us ?” 

“Five times, I think. But I may be mistaken. You 
know it wasn’t a day when a fellow could be very par- 
ticular about his count.” 

“Guess you’re right there. I made it five. What 
do you say, Jim?” 

“Five she was.” 

“That settles it. Jim kin always count up to five 
an’ never make a mistake. What you fellers goin’ to 
do in the mornin’ ?” 


135 


THE SWORD OF, ANTIETAM 

“I don’t know.” 

“Pope ain’t asked you yet what to do. Well, Bobby 
Lee and Old Stonewall ain’t been lookin’ for me either 
to get my advice, but, Yank, you fellers do just what 
I tell you.” 

“What’s that?” 

“Pack up your clothes before daylight, say good- 
bye, and go back to Washington. You needn’t think 
you kin ever lick Marse Bobby an’ Stonewall Jack- 
son.” 

“But what if we do think it? We’ve got a big army 
back there yet, and more are always coming to us. 
We’ll beat you yet.” 

“There seems to be a pow’ful wide difference in 
our opinions, an’ I can’t persuade you an’ you can’t 
persuade me. We’ll just let the question rip. I’m 
glad, after all, Yank, it’s so dark. I don’t want to see 
ten thousand dead men stretched out in rows.” 

“We’re going to get a wettin’,” said the man to Jim. 
“The air’s already damp on my face. Thar, do you 
hear that thunder growlin’ in the southwest? Tre- 
menjously like cannon far away, but it’s thunder all 
the same.” 

“What do we care ’bout a wettin’, Jim ? Fur the last 
few days this young Yank here an’ his comrades have 
shot at me ’bout, a million cannon balls an’ shells, an’ 
more ’n a hundred million rifle bullets. Leastways I felt 
as if they was all aimed at me, which is just as bad. 
After bein’ drenched fur two days with a storm of 
steel an’ lead an’ fire, what do you think I care for a 
summer shower of rain, just drops of rain?” 

136 


THE MOURNFUL FOREST 


“But I don’t like to get wet after havin’ fit so hard. 
It’s unhealthy, likely to give me a cold.” 

“Never min’ ’bout ketchin’ cold. You’re goin’ to- 
get wet, shore. Thunder, but I thought fur a second 
that was the flash of a hull battery aimed at me. Fel- 
lers, if you wasn’t with me I’d be plumb scared, prowl- 
in’ ’roun’ here in a big storm on the biggest graveyard 
in the world. Keep close, Yank, we don’t want to lose 
you in the dark.” 

A tremendous flash of lightning had cut the sky 
down the middle, as if it intended to divide the world 
in two halves, but after its passage the darkness closed 
in thicker and heavier than ever. The sinister sound 
of thunder muttering on the horizon now went on with- 
out ceasing 

Dick was awed. Like many another his brain ex- 
posed to such tremendous pressure for two or three 
days, was not quite normal. It was quickly heated and 
excited by fancies, and time and place alone were 
enough to weigh down even the coolest and most sea- 
soned. He pressed close to his Confederate friends, 
whose names he never knew, and who never knew his, 
and they, feeling the same influence, never for an in- 
stant left the man who held the lantern. 

The muttering thunder now came closer and broke 
in terrible crashes. The lightning flashed again and 
again so vividly that Dick, with involuntary motion, 
threw up his hands to shelter his eyes. But he could 
see before him the mournful forest, where so many 
good men had fallen, and, turned red in the gleam of 
the lightning, it was more terrifying than it had been 


137 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


in the mere black of the night The wind, too, was 
now blowing, and the forest gave forth what Dick’s 
ears turned into a long despairing wail. 

“She’s about to bust,” said the lantern bearer, look- 
ing up at the menacing sky. “Jim, you’ll have to take 
your wettin’ as it comes.” 

A moment later the storm burst in fact. The rain 
rushed down on them, soaking them through in an in- 
stant, but Dick, so far from caring, liked it. It cooled 
his heated body and brain, and he knew that it was 
more likely to help than hurt the wounded who yet lay 
on the ground. 

The lightning ceased before the sweep of the rain, 
but the lantern was well protected by its glass cover, 
and they still searched. The lantern bearer suddenly 
uttered a low cry. 

“Boys!” he said, “Here’s Sam!” 

A thick and uncommonly powerful man lay doubled 
up against a bush. His face was white. Dick saw that 
blood had just been washed from it by the rain. But 
he could see no rising and falling of the chest, and he 
concluded that he was dead. 

“Take the lantern, Jim,” said the leader. Then he 
knelt down and put his finger on his brother’s wrist. 

“He ain’t dead,” he said at last. “His pulse is beat- 
in’ an’ he’ll come to soon. The rain helped him. 
Whar was he hit? By gum, here it is! A bullet has 
ploughed all along the side of his head, runnin’ ’roun’ 
his skull. Here, you Yank, did you think you could 
kill Sam by shootin’ him in the head with a bullet? 
We’ve stood him up in front of our lines, and let you 

133 


THE MOURNFUL FOREST 


fellows break fifty pound shells on his head. You 
never done him no harm, kept once when two solid 
shot struck him at the same time an’ he had a head- 
ache nigh until sundown. Besides havin’ natural thick- 
ness of the skull Sam trained his head by buttin’ with 
the black boys when he was young.’’ 

Dick saw that the man really felt deep emotion and 
was chattering, partly to hide it. He was glad that 
they had found his brother, and he helped them to lift 
him. Then they rubbed Sam’s wrists and poured a 
stimulant down his throat. In a few minutes he stood 
alone on his feet, yawned mightily, and by the light 
of the dim lantern gazed at them in a sort of stupid 
wonder. 

“What’s happened ?” he asked. 

“What’s happened ?” replied his brother. “You was 
always late with the news, Sam. Of course you’ve 
been takin’ a nap, but a lot has happened. We met the 
Yankees an’ we’ve been fightin’ ’em for two days. 
Tremenjous big battle, an’ we’ve whipped ’em. ’Scuse 
me, Yank, I forgot you was with us. Well, nigh onto 
a million have been killed, which ought to be enough 
for anybody. I love my country, but I don’t care to 
love another at such a price. But resumin’ ’bout you 
pussonally, Sam, you stopped so many shells an’ solid 
shot with that thick head of yourn that the concussion 
at last put you to sleep, an’ we’ve found you so we kin 
take you in out of the wet an’ let you sleep in a dry 
place. Kin you walk?” 

Sam made an effort, but staggered badly. 

“Jim, you an’ Dave take him by each shoulder an’ 


139 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


walk him back to camp,” said the lantern bearer. “You 
[jest keep straight ahead an' you’ll butt into Marse Bob 
or old Stonewall, one or the other.” 

“You lead the way with the lantern.” 

“Never you mind about me or the lantern.” 

“What you goin’ to do ?” 

“Me? I’m goin’ to keep this lantern an’ help Yank 
here find his friend. Ain’t he done stuck with us till 
we found Sam, an’ I reckon I’ll stick with him till he 
gits the boy he’s lookin for, dead or alive. Now, you 
keep Sam straight, and walk him back to camp. He 
ain’t hurt. Why, that bullet didn’t dent his skull. It 
said to itself when it came smack up against the bone : 
‘This is too tough for me, I guess I’ll go ’roun’.’ An’ 
it did go ’roun’. You can see whar it come out of the 
flesh on the other side. Why, by the time Sam was 
fourteen years old we quit splittin’ old boards with an 
axe or a hatchet. We jest let Sam set on a log an’ 
we split ’em over his head. Everybody was suited. 
Sam could make himself pow’ful useful without havin’ 
to work.” 

Nevertheless, the lantern bearer gave his brother the 
tenderest care, and watched him until he and the men 
on either side of him were lost in the darkness as they 
walked toward the Southern camp. 

“I jest had to come an’ find old Sam, dead or alive,” 
he said. “Now, which way, Yank, do you think this 
friend of yours is layin’ ?” 

“But you’re cornin’ with us,” repeated Jim. 

“No, I’m not. Didn’t Yank here help us find Sam? 
An’ are we to let the Yanks give us lessons in manners? 


140 


THE MOURNFUL FOREST 


I reckon not. ’Sides, he’s only a boy, an’ I’m goin’ to 
see him through.” 

“I thank you,” said Dick, much moved. 

“Don’t thank me too much, ’cause while I’m walkin’ 
’roun’ with you friendly like to-night I may shoot you 
to-morrow.” 

“I thank you, all the same,” said Dick, his gratitude 
in nowise diminished. 

“Them that will stir no more are layin’ mighty thick 
’roun’ here, but we ought to find your friend pretty 
soon. By gum, how it rains ! W’all, it’ll wash away 
some big stains, that wouldn’t look nice in the mornin’. 
Say, sonny, what started this rumpus, anyway?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“An’ I don’t, either, so I guess it’s hoss an’ hoss 
with you an’ me. But, sonny, I’ll bet you a cracker 
ag’in a barrel of beef that none of them that did start 
the rumpus are a-layin’ on this field to-night. What 
kind of lookin’ feller did you say your young friend 
was ?” 

“Very tall, very thin, and about my age or perhaps 
a year or two older.” 

“Take a good look, an’ see if this ain’t him.” 

He held up the lantern and the beams fell upon ai 
long figure half raised upon an elbow. The figure was 
turned toward the light and stared unknowing at Dick 
and the Southerner. There was a great clot of blood 
upon his right breast and shoulder, but it was Warner. 
Dick swallowed hard. 

“Yes,” he said, “it’s my comrade, but he’s hurt 
badly.” 

141 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


“So bad that he don’t know you or anybody else. 
He’s clean out of his head.” 

They leaned over him, and Dick called : 

“George ! George ! It’s Dick Mason, your comrade, 
come to help you back to camp !” 

But Warner merely stared with feverish, unseeing 
eyes. 

“He’s out of his head, as I told you, an’ he’s like 
to be for many hours,” said the lantern bearer. “It’s 
a shore thing that I won’t shoot him to-morrow, nor 
he won’t shoot me.” 

He leaned over Warner and carefully examined the 
wound. 

“He’s lucky, after all,” he said, “the bullet went in 
just under the right shoulder, but it curved, as bullets 
have a way of doin’ sometimes, an’ has come out on 
the side. There ain’t no lead in him now, which is 
good. He was pow’ful lucky, too, in not bein’ hit in 
the head, ’cause he ain’t got no such skull as Sam has, 
not within a mile of it. His skull wouldn’t have turned 
no bullet. He has lost a power of blood, but if you 
kin get him back to camp, an’ use the med’cines which 
you Yanks have in such lots an’ which we haven’t, he 
may get well.” 

“That’s good advice,” said Dick. “Help me up with 
him.” 

“Take him on your back. That’s the best way to 
carry a sick man.” 

He set down his lantern, took up Warner bodily and 
put him on Dick’s back. 

“I guess you can carry him all right,” he said. I’d 


142 


THE MOURNFUL FOREST 


light you with the lantern a piece of the way, but Fve 
been out here long enough. Marse Bob an’ old Stone- 
wall will get tired waitin’ fur me to tell ’em how to 
end this war in a month.” 

Dick, holding Warner in place with one hand, held 
out the other, and said : 

“You’re a white man, through and through, Johnny 
Reb. Shake!” 

“So are you, Yank. There’s nothin’ wrong with you 
’cept that you happened to get on the wrong side, an’ 
I don’t hold that ag’in you. I guess it was an inner- 
cent mistake.” 

“Good-bye.” 

“Good-bye. Keep straight ahead an’ you’ll strike 
that camp of yourn that we’re goin’ to take in the 
mornin’. Gosh, how it rains!” 

Dick retained his idea of direction, and he walked 
straight through the darkness toward the Northern 
camp. George was a heavy load, but he did not strug- 
gle. His head sank down against his comrade’s and 
Dick felt that it was burning with fever. 

“Good old George,” he murmured to himself rather 
than to his comrade, “I’ll save you.” 

Excitement and resolve had given him a strength 
twice the normal, a strength that would last the fifteen 
or twenty minutes needed until this task was finished. 
Despite the darkness and the driving rain, he could 
now see the lights in his own camp, and bending for- 
ward a little to support the dead weight on his back, 
he walked in a straight course toward them. 

“Halt! Who are you?” 


M3 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


The form of a sentinel, rifle raised, rose up before 
him in the darkness and the rain. 

“Lieutenant Richard Mason of Colonel Winches- 
ter's regiment, bringing in Lieutenant George Warner 
of the same regiment, who is badly wounded." 

The sentinel lowered his rifle and looked at them 
sympathetically. 

“Hangs like he’s dead, but he ain’t," he said. 
“You’ll find a sort of hospital over thar in the big tents 
among them trees." 

Dick found the improvised hospital, and put George 
down on a rude cot, within the shelter of one of the 
tents. 

“He’s my friend," he said to a young doctor, “and 
I wish you’d save him." 

“There are hundreds of others who have friends 
also, but I’ll do my best. Shot just under the right 
shoulder, but the bullet, luckily, has turned and gone 
out. It’s loss of blood that hurt him most. You sol- 
diers kill more men than we doctors can save. I’m 
bound to say that. But your friend won’t die. I’ll see 
to it." 

“Thank you," said Dick. He saw that the doctor 
was kind-hearted, and a marvel of endurance and in- 
dustry. He could not ask for more at such a time, and 
he went out of the tent, leaving George to his care. 

It was still raining, but the soldiers managed to keep 
many fires going, despite it, and Dick passed between 
them as he sought Colonel Winchester, and the frag- 
ments of his regiment. He found the colonel wrapped 
in a greatcoat, leaning against a tree under a few feet 


144 


THE MOURNFUL FOREST 


of canvas supported on sticks. Pennington, sound 
asleep, sat on a root of the same tree, also under the can- 
vas, but with the rain beating on his left arm and 
shoulder. 

Colonel Winchester looked inquiringly at Dick, but 
said nothing. 

“I’ve been away without leave, sir ,” said Dick, “but 
I think I have sufficient excuse.” 

“What is it?” 

“Fve brought in Warner.” 

“Ah ! Is he dead ?” 

“No, sir. He's had a bullet through him and he's 
feverish and unconscious, but the doctor says that with 
care he'll get well.” 

“Where did you find him ?” 

“Over there by the edge of the wood, sir, within 
what is now the Confederate lines.” 

“A credit to your courage and to your heart. Sit 
down here. There's a little more shelter under the 
canvas, and go to sleep. You’re too much hardened 
now to be hurt seriously by wet clothes.” 

Dick sat down with his back against the tree, and, 
despite his soaked condition, slept as soundly as Pen- 
nington. When he awoke in the morning the hot sun 
was shining again, and his clothes soon dried on him. 
He felt a little stiffness and awkwardness at first, but 
in a few minutes it passed away. Then breakfast re- 
stored his strength, and he looked curiously about 
him. 

Around him was the Northern army, and before him 
was the vast battlefield, now occupied by the foe. He 


145 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


heard sounds of distant rifle shots, indicating that the 
skirmishers were still restless, but it was no more now 
than the buzzing of flies. Pennington, coming back 
from the hospital, hailed him. 

“George has come to,” he said. “Great deed of 
yours last night, Dick. Wish I’d done it myself. They 
let old George talk just a little, but he’s his real old 
Vermont self again. Says chances were ninety-nine 
and a half per cent that he would die there on the bat- 
tlefield, but that the half per cent, which was yourself, 
won. Fancy being only half of one per cent, and doing 
a thing like that. No, you can’t see him. Only one 
visitor was allowed, and that’s me. His fever is leav- 
ing him, and he swallowed a little soup. Now, he’s 
going to sleep.” 

Dick felt very grateful. Pennington had been up 
some time, and as they sat down in the sun he gave 
Dick the news. 

“It was a bad night,” he said. “After you staggered 
in with George, the rebels, in spite of the rain, har- 
assed us. I was waked up after midnight, and the 
colonel began to believe that we would have to fight 
again before morning, though the need didn’t come, so 
far as we were concerned. But we were terribly wor- 
ried on the flanks. They say it was Stuart and his 
cavalry who were bothering us.” 

“What’s the outlook for to-day?” 

“I don’t know. I hear that General Pope has sent 
a dispatch saying that the enemy is badly whipped, and 
that we’ll hold our own here. But between you and 
me, Dick, I don’t believe it. We’ve been driven out 

146 


THE MOURNFUL FOREST 


of all our positions, so we can hardly call it a victory 
for our side.” 

“But we may hold on where we are and win a vic- 
tory yet. McClellan and the Army of the Potomac 
may come. Anyway, we can get big reinforcements.” 

Pennington clasped his arms over his knees and 
sang: 

“The race is not to him that’s got 
The longest legs to run, 

Nor the battle to those people 
That shoot the biggest gun.” 

“Where did you get that song?” asked Dick. “I'll 
allow, under the circumstances, that there seems to be 
some sense in it.” 

“A Texan that we captured last night sang it to us. 
He was a funny kind of fellow. Didn’t seem to be 
worried a bit because he was taken. Said if his own 
people didn’t retake him that he’d escape in a week, 
anyhow. Likely enough he will, too. But he was good 
company, and he sang us that song. Impudent, wasn’t 
he?” 

“But true so far, at least in the east. I fancy 
from what you say, Frank, that we’ll be here a day 
longer anyhow. I hope so, I want to rest.” 

“So do I. I won’t fight to-day, unless I’m ordered 
to do it. But I’m thinking with you, Dick, that we’ll 
retreat. We were outmaneuvered by Lee and Jackson. 
That circuit of Jackson’s through Thoroughfare Gap 
and the attack from the rear undid us. It comes of 


147 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


being- kept in the dark by the enemy, instead of your 
keeping him in the dark. We never knew where the 
blow was going to fall, and when it fell a lot of us 
weren’t there. But, Dick, old boy, we’re going to win, 
in the end, aren’t we, in spite of Lee, in spite of Jack- 
son, and in spite of everybody and everything?” 

“As surely as the rising and setting of the sun, 
Frank.” 

Although Dick had little to do that day, events were 
occurring. It was in the minds of Lee and Jackson 
that they might yet destroy the army which they had 
already defeated, and heavy divisions of the Southern 
army were moving. Dick heard about night that Jack- 
son had marched ten miles, through fields deep in mud, 
and meant to fall on Pope’s flank or rear again. Stuart 
and his unresting cavalry were also on their right flank 
and in the rear, doing damage everywhere. Longstreet 
had sent a brigade across Bull Run, and at many points 
the enemy was pressing closer. 

The next morning, Pope, alarmed by all the sinister 
movements on his flanks and in his rear, gathered up 
his army and retreated. It was full time or the vise 
would have shut down on him again. Late that day 
the division under Kearney came into contact with 
Jackson’s flanking force in the forest. A short but 
fierce battle ensued, fought in the night and amid new 
torrents of driving rain. General Kearney was killed 
by a skirmisher, but the night and the rain grew so 
dense, and they were in such a tangle of thickets, and 
forests that both sides drew off, and Pope’s army 
passed on. 


148 


THE MOURNFUL FOREST 


Dick was not in this battle, but he heard it’s crash 
and roar above the sweep of the storm. He and the 
balance of the regiment were helping to guard the long- 
train of the wounded. Now and then, he leaned from 
his horse and looked at Warner who lay in one of the 
covered wagons. 

‘‘I’m getting along all right, Dick, old man,” said 
Warner. “What’s all that firing off toward the woods ?” 

“A battle, but it won’t stop us. We retreated in 
time.” 

“And we’ve been defeated. Well, we can stand it. 
It takes a good nation to stand big defeats. You know 
I taught school once, Dick, and I learned that the big- 
gest nation the world has ever known was the one that 
suffered the biggest defeats. Look at the terrible 
knocks the Romans got! Why the Gauls nearly ate 
’em alive two or three times, and for years Hannibal 
whipped ’em every time he could get at ’em. But they 
ended by whipping everybody who had whipped them. 
They whipped the whole world, and they kept it 
whipped until they played out from old age.” 

Dick laughed cheerily. 

“Now, you shut up, George,” he said. “You’ve 
talked too much. What’s the use of going back as far 
as the old Romans for comfort. We can win without 
having to copy a lot of old timers.” 

He dropped the flap of canvas and rode on listening 
to the sounds of the combat. A powerful figure 
stepped out of the bushes and stood beside his horse. 
It was .Sergeant Whitley, who had passed through the 
battle without a scratch. 


149 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


“What has happened, Sergeant ?” asked Dick, as he 
sat in the rain and listened to the dying fire. 

“There has been a fight, and both are quitting be- 
cause they can’t see enough to carry it on any longer. 
But General Kearney has been killed.” 

The retreat continued until they reached the Poto- 
mac and were in the great fortifications before Wash- 
ington. Then Pope resigned, and the star of McClel- 
lan rose again. The command of the armies about 
Washington was entrusted to him, and the North 
gathered itself anew for the mighty struggle. 


CHAPTER VII 


ORDERS NO. 1 91 

W HEN the Union army, defeated at the Sec- 
ond Manassas fell back on Washington, Dick 
was detached for a few days from the regi- 
ment by Colonel Winchester, partly that he might have 
a day or two of leave, and partly that he might watch 
over Warner, who was making good progress. 

Warner was in a wagon that contained half a dozen 
other wounded men, or rather boys, and they were all 
silent like stoics as they passed over the bridge to a 
hospital in Washington. His side and shoulder pained 
him, and he had recurrent periods of fever, but he was 
making fine progress. 

Dick found his comrade on a small cot among doz- 
ens of others in a great room. But George's cot was 
near a window and the pleasant sunshine poured in. 
It was now the opening of September, and the hot 
days were passing. There was a new sparkle and 
crispness in the air, and Warner, wounded as he was, 
felt it. 

“We're back in the capital to enjoy ourselves a 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


while/’ he said lightly to Dick, “and I’m glad to see 
that the weather will be fine for sight-seeing.” 

“Yes, here we are,” said Dick. “The Johnnies beat 
us this time. They didn’t outfight us, but they had the 
best generals. As soon as you’re well, George, we’ll 
start out again and lick ’em.” 

“I’m glad you told ’em to wait for me, Dick. That’s 
what you ought to do. I hear that McClellan is at 
the head of things again.” 

“Yes, the Army of the Potomac is to the front once 
more, and it’s taken over the Army of Virginia. We 
hear that Pope is going out to the northwest to fight 
Indians.” 

“McClellan is not likely to be trapped as Pope was, 
but he’s so tremendously cautious that he’ll never trap 
anything himself. Now, which kind of a general 
would you choose, Dick ?” 

“As between those two I’ll take McClellan. The 
soldiers at least like him and believe in him. And 
George, our man in the east hasn’t come yet. The 
generals we’ve had don’t hammer. They don’t con- 
centrate, rush right in and rain blows on the 
enemy.” 

“Do you think you know the right man, Dick?” 

“I’m making a guess. It’s Grant. We saw him at 
Donelson and Shiloh. Surprised at both places, he won 
anyhow. He wouldn’t be beat. That’s the kind of 
man we want here in the east.” 

“You may be right, Dick, but the politicians in this 
part of the country all run him down. Halleck has 
. been transferred to Washington as a sort of general 


152 


ORDERS NO. 191 


commander and adviser to the President, and they say 
he doesn’t like Grant.” 

Further talk was cut short by a young army sur- 
geon, and Dick left George, saying that he would come 
back the next day. The streets of Washington were 
full of sunshine, but not of hope and cheerfulness. 
The most terrible suspense reigned there. Never be- 
fore or since was Washington in such alarm. A hos- 
tile and victorious army was within a day’s march. 
Pope almost to the last had talked of victory. Then 
came a telegram, asking if the capital could be de- 
fended in case his army was destroyed. Next came 
the army preceded by thousands of stragglers and her- 
alds of disaster. 

The people were dropped from the golden clouds of 
hope to the hard earth of despair. They strained their 
eyes toward Manassas, where the flag of the Union had 
twice gone down in disaster. It was said, and there 
was ample cause for the saying of it, that Lee and 
Jackson with their victorious veterans would appear 
any moment before the capital. There were rumors 
that the government was packing up in order to flee 
northward to Philadelphia or even New York. 

But Dick believed none of these rumors. In fact, 
he was not greatly alarmed by any of them. He was 
sure that McClellan, although without genius, would 
restore the stamina of the troops, if indeed it were 
ever lost, which he doubted very much. He had seen 
how splendidly they fought at the Second Manassas,, 
and he knew that there was no panic among them. 
Moreover, the North was an inexhaustible storehouse 


153 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


of men and material, and whenever one soldier fell 
two grew in his place. 

So he strode through the crowded streets, calm of 
face and manner, and took his way once more to the 
hotel, where he had sat and listened to the talk be- 
fore the Second Manassas. The lobby was packed with 
men, and there was but one topjc, the military situa- 
tion. Would Lee and Jackson advance, hot upon the 
heels of their victory? Would Washington fall? 
Would McClellan be able to save them ? Why weren’t 
the generals of the North as good as those of the 
South? 

Dick listened to the talk which was for all who 
might choose to hear. He did not assume any su- 
t perior frame of mind, merely because he had fought 
in many battles and these men had fought in none. 
He retained the natural modesty of youth, and know- 
ing that one who looked on might sometimes be a 
better judge of what was happening than the one who 
took part, he weighed carefully what they said. 

He was in a comfortable chair by the wall, and 
while he sat thdre a heavy man of middle age, whom 
he remembered well, approached and stood before him, 
regarding him with a keen and measuring eye. 

“Good morning, Mr. Watson,” said Dick politely. 

“Ah, it is you, Lieutenant Mason!” said the con- 
tractor. “I thought so, but I was not sure, as you are 
thinner than you were when I last saw you. I’ll just 
take this seat beside you.” 

A man in the next chair had moved and the con- 
tractor dropped into it. Then he crossed his legs, 


154 


ORDERS NO. 191 


and smoothed the upper knee with a strong, fat 
hand. 

“You’ve had quite a trip since I last saw you, Mr. 
Mason,” he said. 

“We didn’t go so terribly far.” 

“It’s not length that makes a trip. It’s what you 
see and what happens.” 

“I saw a lot, and a hundred times more than what 
I saw happened.” 

The contractor took two fine cigars from his vest 
pocket and handed one to Dick. 

“No, thank you,” said the boy, “I’ve never learned 
to smoke.” 

“I suppose that’s because you come from Ken- 
tucky, where they raise so much tobacco. When you 
see a thing so thick around you, you don’t care for 
it. Well, we’ll talk while I light mine and puff it. 
And so, young man, you ran against Lee and Jack- 
son !” 

“We did, or they ran against us, which comes to the 
same thing.” 

“And got well thrashed. There’s no denying it.” 

“I’m not trying to do so.” 

“That’s right. I thought from the first that you 
were a young man of sense. I’m glad to see that you 
didn’t get yourself killed.” 

“A great many good men did.” 

“That’s so, and a great many more will go the same 
way. You just listen to me. I don’t wear any uni- 
form, but I’ve got eyes to see and ears to hear. I sup- 
pose that more monumental foolishness has been hid- 


155 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


den under cocked hats and gold lace than under any- 
thing else, since the world began. Easy now, I don’t 
say that fools are not more numerous outside armies 
than in them — there are more people outside — but the 
mistakes of generals are more costly.” 

“I suppose our generals are doing the best they can. 
You will let me speak plainly, will you, Mr. Wat- 
son ?” 

“Of course, young man. Go ahead.” 

“Perhaps you feel badly over a disaster of your own. 
I saw the smoking fires at Bristoe Station. The reb- 
els burned there several million dollars worth of stores 
belonging to us. Maybe a large part of them were 
your own goods.” 

The contractor rubbed his huge knee with one hand, 
took his cigar out of his mouth with the other hand, 
blew several rings of fine blue smoke from his nose, 
and watched them break against the ceiling. 

“Young man,” he said, “you’re a good guesser, but 
you don’t guess all. More than a million dollars worth 
of material that I supplied was burned or looted at 
Bristoe Station. But it had all been paid for by a 
perfectly solvent Union government. So, if I were 
to consider it from the purely material standpoint, 
which you imagine to be the only one I have, I should 
rejoice over the raids of the rebels because they make 
trade for contractors. I’m a patriot, even if I do not 
fight at the front. Besides my feelings have been 
hurt.” 

“In what way?” 

The contractor drew from his pocket a coarse brown 


ORDERS NO. 191 


envelope, and he took from the envelope a letter, writ-* 
ten on paper equally coarse and brown. 

“I received this letter last night,” he said. “It was 
addressed simply John Watson, Washington, D. C./ 
and the post office people gave it to me at once. It 
came from somebody within the Confederate lines. 
You know how the Northern and Southern pickets ex- 
change tobacco, newspapers and such things, when 
they’re not fighting. I suppose the letter was passed 
on to me in that way. Listen.” 

“John Watson, 

Washington, D. C. 

“My dear sir : I have never met you, but certain cir- 
cumstances have made me acquainted with your name. 
Believing therefore that you are a man of judgment 
and fairness I feel justified in making to you a complaint 
which I am sure you will agree with me is well-founded. 
At a little place called Bristoe Station I recently obtained 
a fine, blue uniform, the tint of which wind and rain 
will soon turn to our own excellent Confederate gray. 
I found your own name as maker stamped upon the neck- 
band of both coat and vest. 

“I ought to say however that after I had worn the coat 
only twice the seams ripped across both shoulders, I 
admit that the fit was a little tight, but work well done 
would not yield so quickly. I also picked out a pair of 
beautiful shoes, bearing your name stamped upon them. 
The leather cracked after the first day’s use, and good 
leather will never crack so soon. 

“Now, my dear Mr. Watson, I feel that you have treated 
me unfairly. I will not use any harsher word. We do 


157 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


not expect you to supply us with goods of this quality, 
and we certainly look for something better from you 
next time. 

“Your obedient servant, 

Arthur St. Clair, 
Lieutenant ‘The Invincibles,’ 

C. S. A 1 .” 

“Now, did you ever hear of another piece of im- 
pudence like that?’" said Watson. “It has its humor- 
ous side, I admit, and you’re justified in laughing, 
but it’s impudence all the same.” 

“Yes, it is impudence, and do you know, Mr. Wat- 
son, I’ve met the writer of that letter. He is a South 
Carolinian, and from his standpoint he has a real griev- 
ance. I never knew anybody else as particular about 
his clothes, and it seems that the uniform and shoes 
you furnished him are not all right. He’s a gentle- 
man and he wouldn’t lie. I met him at Cedar Run, 
when the burying parties were going over the field. 
He was introduced to me by my cousin, Harry Ken- 
ton, who is on the other side. Harry wouldn’t as- 
sociate with any fellow who isn’t all right.” 

“All the same, if I ever catch that young jackanapes 
of a St. Clair— it’s an easy name to remember — I’ll 
strip my uniform off him and turn him loose for his 
own comrades to laugh at.” 

“But we won’t catch either him or his comrades for 
a long time.” 

“That’s so, but in the end we’ll catch ’em. Now, 
Mr. Mason, you don’t agree with me about many 

158 


ORDERS NO. 191 


things, but you’re only a boy and you’ll know better 
later on. Anyway, I like you, and if you need help 
at any time and can reach me, come.” 

“I’ll do so, and I thank you now,” said Dick, who 
saw that the contractor’s tone was sincere. 

“That’s right, good-bye. I see a senator whom I 
need.” 

They shook hands and Watson hurried away with 
great lightness and agility for so large a man. 

Dick stayed two days longer in Washington, visit- 
ing Warner twice a day and seeing with gladness his 
rapid improvement. When he was with him the last 
time, and told him he was going to join the Army of 
the Potomac, Warner said: 

“Dick, old man, I haven’t spoken before of the way 
you brought me in from that last battlefield. Pen- 
nington has told me about it — but if I didn’t it was not 
because I wasn’t grateful. Up in Vermont we’re not 
much on words — our training I suppose, though I don’t 
say it is the best training. It’s quite sure that I’d have 
died if you hadn’t found me.” 

“Why, George, I looked for you as a matter of 
course. You’d have done exactly the same for me.” 

“That’s just it, but I didn’t get the chance. Now, 
Dick, there’s going to be another big battle before long, 
and I shall be up in time for it. You’ll be there, too. 
Couldn’t you get yourself shot late in the afternoon, 
lie on the ground, feverish and ‘delirious until far in 
the night, when I’d come for you. Then I could pay 
you back.” 

Dick laughed. He knew that at the bottom of War- 


159 


THE SWORD OF ANTEETAM 


tier's jest lay a resolve to match the score, whenever 
the chance should come. 

"Good-bye, George,” he said. "I’ll look for you in 
two weeks.” 

"Make it only ten days. McClellan will need me by 
that time.” 

But it seemed to Dick that McClellan would need 
him and every other man at once. Lee was marching. 
Passing by the capital he had advanced into Maryland, 
a Southern state, but one that had never seceded. 
The Southerners expected to find many reinforcements 
here among their kindred. The regiments in gray, 
flushed with victory, advanced singing: 


"The despot's heel is on thy shore, 
Maryland ! 

His torch is at thy temple door, 
Maryland ! 

Avenge the patriotic gore 
That flecked the streets of Baltimore 
And be the battle queen of yore, 
Maryland, my Maryland!” 


Dick knew that the South expected much of Mary- 
land. Her people were Southerners. Their valor in 
the Revolution was unsurpassed. People still talked of 
the Maryland line and its great deeds. Many of the 
Marylanders had already come to Lee and Jackson, 
and now that the Southern army, led by its famous 
leaders and crowned with victories, was on their soil, 

160 


ORDERS NO. 191 


it was expected that they would pour forward in thou- 
sands, relieved from the fear of Northern armies. 

Alarm, deep and intense, spread all through the 
North. McClellan, as usual, doubled Lee’s numbers 
but he organized with all speed to meet him. Dick 
heard that Lee was already at Frederick, giving his 
troops a few days’ repose before meeting any enemy 
who might come. The utmost confidence reigned in 
the South. 

McClellan marched, but he advanced slowly. The 
old mystery and uncertainty about the Southern army 
returned. It suddenly disappeared from Frederick, and 
McClellan became extremely cautious. He had nearly 
a hundred thousand men, veterans now, but he be- 
lieved that Lee had two hundred thousand. 

Colonel Winchester again complained bitterly to 
Dick, who was a comrade as well as an aide. 

“What we need,” he said, “is a general who doesn’t 
see double, and we haven’t got him yet. We must 
spend less time counting the rebels and more hammer- 
ing them.” 

“A civilian in Washington told me that,” said Dick. 
“I believed then that he was right, and I believe it 
yet. If General Grant were here he’d attack instead 
of waiting to be attacked.” 

But the Army of the Potomac continued to march 
forward in a slow and hesitating fashion. Dick, 
despite his impatience, appreciated the position of Gen- 
eral McClellan. No one in the Union army or in the 
North knew the plans of Lee and Jackson. Lee had 
not even consulted the President of the Confederacy 

161 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


but had merely notified him that he was going into 
Maryland. 

Now Lee and Jackson had melted away again in the 
mist that so often overhung their movements. McClel- 
lan could not be absolutely sure they intended an im- 
portant invasion of Maryland. They might be plan- 
ning to fall upon the capital from another direction. 
The Union commander must protect Washington and 
at the same time look for his enemy. 

The army marched near the Potomac, and Dick, as 
he rode with his regiment, saw McClellan several times. 
It had not been many months since he took his great 
army by sea for what seemed to be the certain capture 
of Richmond, but McClellan, although a very young 
man for so high a position, had already changed much. 
His face was thinner, and it seemed to Dick that he 
had lost something of his confident look. The awful 
Seven Days and his bitter disappointment had left 
their imprint. Nevertheless he was trim, neat and up- 
right, and always wore a splendid uniform. An un- 
failing favorite with the soldiers, they cheered him 
as he passed, and he would raise his hat, a flush of 
pride showing through the tan of his cheecks. 

“If a general, after being defeated, can still retain 
the confidence of his army he must have great qual- 
ities of some kind,” said Dick to Colonel Winches- 
ter. 

“That’s true, Dick. McClellan lost at the Seven 
Days, and he has just taken over an army that was 
trapped and beaten under Pope, but behold tho spirits 
of the men, although the Second Manassas is only a 

162 


ORDERS NO. 191 


few days away. McClellan looks after the private 
soldier, and if he could only look after an army in the 
way that he organizes it this war would soon be over.” 

Dick noticed that the colonel put emphasis on the 
“if” and his heart sank a little. But it soon rose again. 
The Army of the Potomac was now a veteran body. It 
had been tested in the fire of defeat, and it had emerged 
stronger and braver than ever. 

But Dick did not like the mystery about Lee and 
Jackson. They had an extraordinary ability to drop 
out of sight, to draw a veil before them so completely 
that no Union scout or skirmisher could penetrate it. 
And these disappearances were always full of sinis- 
ter omens, portending a terrible attack from an un- 
known quarter. But when Dick looked upon the great 
and brave Army of the Potomac, nearly a hundred 
thousand strong, his apprehensions disappeared. The 
Army of the Potomac could not be beaten, and since 
Lee and Jackson were venturing so far from their 
base, they might be destroyed. He confided his faith 
to Pennington who rode beside him. 

“I tell you, Frank, old man,” he said, “the South- 
ern army may never get back into Virginia.” 

“Not if we light a prairie fire behind it and set 
another in front. Then we’ll have ’em trapped same 
as they trapped us at Manassas. Wouldn’t it be funny 
if we’d turn their own trick on ’em, and end the war 
right away?” 

“It would be more than funny. It would be grand, 
superb, splendid, magnificent. But I wish old George 
was here. Why did he want to get in the way of that 

1 63 


THE SWORD OE ANTIETAM 

bullet? I hate to think of ending the war without 
him.” 

“Maybe he’ll get up in time yet, Dick. I saw him 
a few hours before we started. The doctors said that 
youth, clean blood and clean living counted for a lot 
— 1 guess George would put it at ninety per cent, and 
that his wound, the bullet having gone through, would 
heal at a record rate.” 

“Then we’ll see him soon. When he’s strong enough 
to ride a horse, nothing can hold him back.” 

“That’s so. I see houses ahead. What place is it, 
Dick?” 

“It must be Frederick. We had reports that the 
Johnnies were about here, but they must have van- 
ished, since no bullets meet us. The colonel is looking 
through his glasses, and, as he does not check his horse, 
it is evident that the enemy is not there.” 

“But maybe he has been there, and if he has we’ll 
just take his place. I like the looks of these Mary- 
land towns, Frank, and they’re not so hostile to us.” 

Colonel Winchester’s skeleton regiment, now not 
amounting to more than three hundred men, was in 
the vanguard and it rode forward rapidly. The people 
received them without either enthusiasm or marked 
hostility. Yet the Union vanguard obtained news. 
Lee had been there with his army, but he had gone 
away ! Where ! They could not say. The Southern 
officers had been silent and the soldiers had not known. 
None of the people of Frederick had been allowed to 
follow. A cloud of cavalry covered the Southern 
movements. 


164 


ORDERS NO. 191 

“Not so definite after all,” said Dick. “We know 
that the Southern army has been here, but we don’t 
know where it has gone.” 

“At any rate,” said Pennington, “we’re on the trail, 
and we’re bound to find it sooner or later. I learned 
from the hunters in Nebraska that when you strike the 
trail of a buffalo herd all you had to do was to keep 
on and you’d strike the herd itself.” 

It was not yet noon and McClellan’s army began to 
go into camp at Frederick. Dick and Pennington got 
a chance to stroll about a little, and they picked up 
much gossip. Young women, with strong Southern 
proclivities, looked with frowning eyes upon their blue 
uniforms, but the frank and pleasant smiles of the two 
lads disarmed them. Older women of the same pro- 
clivities did not melt so easily, but continued to regard 
them with a hard and burning gaze. 

But there were men strongly for the Union, and 
the two friendly lads picked up many details from 
them. They showed them a grove in which Lee, Jack- 
son, Longstreet and D. H. Hill had all been camped 
at once. People had gone there daily for a glimpse 
of these famous men. 

They also showed the boys the very spot where 
Stonewall Jackson had come near to making an ig- 
nominious end of his great career. His faithful horse, 
Little Sorrel, had been worn out by incessant march- 
ings and must rest for a while. The people gave him 
a splendid horse, but one that had not been broken 
well. The first time he mounted it a band happened 
to begin playing, the horse sprang wildly, the saddle 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


girth broke and Jackson was thrown heavily to the 
ground. 

“You’d better believe there was excitement then,” 
said the narrator, a clerk in one of the stores. “Ev- 
erybody ran forward to pick up the general. He had 
been thrown so hard that he was stunned and had big 
bruises. That horse did him more damage than all the 
armies of the North have done. I can tell you there 
was alarm for a while among the Johnnies, but they 
say he was all over it before he left.” 

They wandered back toward their own command 
and the obliging guide pointed out to them a house 
which the Confederate generals had made their head- 
quarters. They saw Colonel Winchester entering it, 
and thanking the clerk, followed him. 

Union officers were already in the house looking 
with curiosity at the chairs and tables that Jackson and 
Lee and Longstreet had occupied. Dick caught sight 
of a small package lying on one of the tables, but 
another man picked it up first. As he did so he looked 
at Dick and said in triumph : 

“Three good cigars that the rebels have left behind. 
Have one, Mason?” 

“Thanks, but I don’t smoke.” 

“All right, I’ll find someone else who does.” 

He pulled off a piece, of paper wrapped around them, 
threw it on the floor and put the cigars in his pocket. 
Dick was about to turn away when he happened to 
glance at the wrapping lying on the floor. 

His eyes were caught by the words written in large 
letters : 


1 66 


ORDERS NO. 191 

Headquarters of the Army of North 

Something seemed to shoot through his brain. It 
was like a flash of warning or command and he obeyed 
at once. He picked up the paper and smoothed it out 
in his hand. The full line read like the headline in 
a newspaper: 

Headquarters of the Army of Northern Virginia. 

September 9, 1862. 

Then with eyes bulging in his head he read : 

Headquarters of the Army of Northern Virginia, 

September 9, 1862. 

Special Orders, No. 191. 

The army will resume its march tomorrow, taking the 
Hagerstown road. General Jackson’s command will form 
the advance, and after passing Middletown with such 
portions as he may select, take their route toward 
Sharpsburg, cross the Potomac at the most convenient 
point and by Friday morning take possession of the Balti- 
more and Ohio Railway, capture such of them as may 
be at Martinsburg, and intercept such as may attempt 
to escape from Harper’s Ferry. 

General Longstreet’s command will pursue the main 
road as far as Boonsborough, where it will halt with the 
reserve supply and baggage train of the army. 

General McLaws with his own division and that of 
General R. H. Anderson will follow General Long- 
street. On reaching Middletown will take the route to 
Harper’s Ferry, and by Friday morning possess himself 

167 


THE SW011D OF ANTIETAM 


of the Maryland Heights and endeavor to capture the 
enemy at Harper’s Ferry and vicinity. 

Dick stopped a moment and gasped. 

“Come on/’ called the man with the cigars, “there 
is nothing more to be seen here.” 

“Wait a moment,” said Dick. 

Perhaps it was his duty to rush at once with it to a 
superior officer, but the spell was too strong. He read 
on: 

General Walker with his division, after accomplishing 
the object on which he is now engaged, will cross the 
Potomac at. Cheek’s Ford, ascend its right bank to 
Lovettsville, take possession of Sundown Heights, if 
practicable, by Friday morning, Key’s Grove on his left, 
and the road between the end of the mountains and the 
Potomac on his right. He will, as far as practicable, co- 
operate with General McLaws and General Jackson, and 
intercept the retreat of the enemy. 

General D. H. Hill’s division will form the rear-guard 
of the army, pursuing the road taken by the main body. 
The reserve artillery, ordinance and supply trains, etc., 
will precede General Hill. 

Dick gasped and he heard someone calling again 
to him to come, but he read on: 

General Stuart will detach a squadron of cavalry to 
accompany the commands of Generals Longstreet, Jack- 
son and McLaws, and with the main body of the cavalry 
will cover the route of the army, bringing up all the 
stragglers that may have been left behind. 


1 68 


ORDERS NO. 191 


The commands of General Jackson, McLaws and 
Walker, after accomplishing the objects for which they 
have been detached, will join the main body of the army 
at Boonsborough or Hagerstown. 

Each regiment on the march will habitually carry its 
axes in the regimental ordnance wagons, for use of the 
men at their encampments, to procure wood, etc. 

R. H. Chilton, 
Assistant Adjutant General. 

Dick clutched the paper in his hands and for the 
moment his throat seemed to contract so tightly that 
he could not breathe. Then he felt a burst of wild joy. 

One of the most extraordinary incidents in the 
whole history of war had occurred. He knew in an 
instant that this was Lee’s general orders to his army, 
and that at such a time nothing could be more import- 
ant. Evidently copies of it had been sent to all his 
division commanders, and this one by some singular 
chance either had not reached its destination, or had 
been tossed carelessly aside after reading. Found by 
those who needed it most wrapped around three ci- 
gars ! It was a miracle ! Nothing short of it ! How 
could the Union army be defeated after such an omen? 

It was the copy intended for the Southern general, 
D. H. Hill — he denied that he ever received it — but it 
did not matter to Dick then for whom it was intended. 
He saw at once all the possibilities. Lee and Jackson 
had divided their army again. Emboldened by the 
splendid success of their daring maneuver at Manassas 
they were going to repeat it. 

He looked again at the date on the order. Septem- 

169 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


ber 9th! And this was the 13th! Jackson was to 
march on the 10th. He had been gone three days with 
the half, perhaps, of Lee’s army, and Lee himself must 
be somewhere near at hand. The Union scouts could 
quickly find him and the ninety thousand veterans of 
the Army of the Potomac -could crush him to powder 
in a day. What a chance ! No, it was not a chance. 
It was a miracle. The key had been put in McClel- 
lan’s hand and it would take but one turn of his wrist 
to unlock the door upon dazzling success. 

Dick saw the war finished in a month. Lee could 
not have more than twenty or twenty-five thousand 
men with him, and Jackson was three or four days’ 
march away. He clutched the order in his hand and 
ran toward Colonel Winchester. 

“Here, take it, sir! Take it!” he exclaimed. 

“Take what?” 

“Look! Look! See what it is!” 

Colonel Winchester took one glance at it, and then 
he, too, became excited. He hurried with it to Gen- 
eral McClellan, and that day the commander-in-chief 
telegraphed to the anxious President at Washington: 

“I have all the plans of the rebels, and will catch 
them in my own trap, if my men are equal to the 
emergency.” 

The shrewd Lincoln took notice of the qualifying 
clause, “if my men are equal to the emergency,” and 
sighed a little. Already this general, so bold in de- 
sign and so great in preparation was making excuses 
for possible failure in action — if he failed his men and 
not he would be to blame. 


170 


CHAPTER VIII 


THE DUEL IN THE PASS 

D ICK carried the news to Pennington who 
danced with delight. 

“We’ve got 'em! we've got 'em!" he cried 
over and over again. 

“So we have," said Dick, “we'll be marching in a 
half hour and then the trap will shut down so tight 
on Robert Lee that he’ll never raise the lid again." 

It was nearly noon, and they expected every moment 
the order to start, but it did not come. Dick began to 
be tormented by an astonished impatience, and he saw 
that Colonel Winchester suffered in the same way. 
The army showed no signs of moving. Was it pos- 
sible that McClellan would not advance at once on Lee, 
whom the scouts had now located definitely ? The hot 
afternoon hours grew long as they passed one by one, 
and many a brave man ate his heart out with anger 
at the delay. Dick saw Sergeant Whitley walking up 
and down, and he was eager to hear his opinion. 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


“What is it, sergeant ?” he asked. “Why do we sit 
here, twiddling our thumbs when there is an army 
waiting to be taken by us ?” 

“You're a commissioned officer, sir, and I’m only a 
private.” 

“Never mind about that. You're a veteran of many 
years and many fights, and I know but little. Why do 
we sit still in the dust and fail to take the great prize 
that's offered to us ?” 

“The men of an army, sir, do the fighting, but its 
generals are its brains. It is for the brains to judge, to 
see and to command. The generals cannot win with- 
out the men, and the men cannot win without the gen- 
erals. Now, in this case, sir, you can see ” 

He stopped and shrugged his shoulders, as if it were 
not for him to say any more. 

“I see,” said Dick bitterly. “You needn't say it, 
sergeant, but I’ll say it for you. General McClellan 
has been overcome by caution again, and he sees two 
Johnnies where but one stands.” 

Sergeant Whitley shrugged his shoulders again, but 
said nothing. Dick was about to turn away, when he 
saw a tall, thin figure approaching. 

“Mr. Warner,” said Sergeant Whitley. 

“So it is,” exclaimed Dick. “It's really good old 
George come to help us !” 

He rushed forward and shook hands with Warner 
who although thin and pale was as cool and apparently 
almost as strong as ever. 

“Here I am, Dick,” he said, “and the great battle 
hasn't been fought. I knew they couldn't fight it 


172 


THE DUEL IN THE PASS 


without me. The hospital at Washington dismissed 
me in disgrace because I got well so fast. ‘What’s the 
use/ said one of the doctors, ‘in getting up and run- 
ning away to the army to get killed? You could die 
much more comfortably here in bed.’ ‘Not at all/ 
I replied. ‘I don’t get killed when I’m with the army. 
I merely get nearly killed. Then I lie unconscious 
on the field, in the rain, until some good friend comes 
along, takes me away on his back and puts me in a 
warm bed. It’s a lot safer than staying in your hos- 
pital all the time.’ ” 

“Oh, shut up, George! Come and see the boys. 
They’ll be glad to know you’re back — what’s left of 
’em.” 

Warner’s welcome was in truth warm. He seemed 
more phlegmatic than ever, but he opened his eyes wide 
when they told him of the dispatch that had been lost 
and found. 

“General McClellan must have been waiting for me,” 
he said. “Tell him I’ve come.” 

But General McClellan did not yet move. The last 
long hour of the day passed. The sun set in red and 
gold behind the western mountains, and the Army of 
the Potomac still rested in its camp, although privates 
even knew that precious hours were being lost, and 
that booming cannon might already be telling the de- 
fenders of Harper’s Ferry that Jackson was at hand. 

Nor were they far wrong. While McClellan ling- 
ered on through the night, never moving from his 
camp, Jackson and his generals were pushing forward 
with fiery energy and at dawn the next day had sur- 


173 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


rounded Harper’s Ferry and its doomed garrison of 
more than twelve thousand men. 

But these were things that Dick could not guess that 
night. One small detachment had been sent ahead by 
McClellan, chiefly for scouting purposes, and in the 
darkness the boy who had gone a little distance for- 
ward with Colonel Winchester heard the booming of 
cannon. It was a faint sound but unmistakable, and 
Dick glanced at his chief. 

“That detachment has come into contact with the 
rebels somewhere there in the mountains,” he said, 
“and the ridges and valleys are bringing us the echoes. 
Oh, why in Heaven’s name are we delayed here 
through all the precious moments ! Every hour’s delay 
will cost the lives of ten thousand good men !” 

And it is likely that in the end Colonel Winchester’s 
reckoning was too moderate. He and Dick gazed long 
in the direction in which Harper’s Ferry lay, and they 
listened, too, to the faint mutter of the guns among 
the hills. Before dawn, scouts came in, saying that 
there had been hard fighting off toward Harper’s Ferry, 
and that Lee with the other division of the Southern 
army was retreating into a peninsula formed by the 
junction of the river Antietam with the Potomac, 
where he would await the coming of Jackson, after 
taking Harper’s Ferry. 

“Jackson hasn’t taken Harper’s Ferry yet,” said 
Dick, when he heard the news. “Many of Banks’ vet- 
erans of the valley are there, and, our men instead of 
being crushed by defeat, are always improved by it.” 

“Still, I wish we’d march,” said Warner. “I didn’t 


174 


THE DUEL IN THE PASS 


come here merely to go into camp. I might as well 
have stayed in the hospital.” 

Nevertheless they moved at daylight. McClellan 
had made up his mind at last, and the army advanced 
joyfully to shut down the trap on Lee. Dick’s spirits 
rose with the sun and the advance of the troops. They 
had delayed, but they would get Lee yet. There was 
nothing to tell them that Harper’s Ferry had fallen, 
and Jackson’s force must still be detained there far 
away. They ought to strike Lee on the morrow and 
destroy him, and then they would destroy Jackson. 
Oh, Lee and Jackson had been reckless generals to ven- 
ture beyond the seceding states ! 

They marched fast now, and the fiery Hooker soon 
to be called Fighting Joe led the advance. He was 
eager to get at Lee, who some said did not now have 
more than twenty thousand men with him, although 
McClellan insisted on doubling or tripling his numbers 
and those of Jackson. Scouts and skirmishers came 
in fast now. Yes, Lee was between the Antietam and 
the Potomac and they ought to strike him on the mor- 
row. The spirits of the Army of the Potomac con- 
tinually rose. 

Dick remained in a joyous mood. He had been 
greatly uplifted by the return of his comrade, War- 
ner, for whom he had formed a strong attachment, and 
he could not keep down the thought that they would 
now be able to trap Lee and end the war. The terrible 
field of the Second Manassas was behind him and for- 
gotten for the time. They rode now to a new battle 
and to victory. 


175 


THE SWORD OF. ANTIETAM 


Another great cloud of dust like that at Manassas 
rolled slowly on toward the little river or creek of 
Antietam, but the heat was not so great now. A 
pleasant breeze blew from the distant western moun- 
tains and cooled the faces of the soldiers. The coun- 
try through which they were passing was old for 
America. They saw a carefully cultivated soil, good 
roads and stone bridges. 

None of the lads and young men around Colonel 
Winchester rejoiced more than Warner. Released 
from the hospital and with his tried comrades once 
more he felt as if he were the dead come back. He 
was in time, too, for the great battle which was to end 
the war. The cool wind that blew upon his face tingled 
with life and made his pulses leap. Beneath the gran- 
ite of his nature and a phlegmatic exterior, he con- 
cealed a warm heart that always beat steadfastly for 
his friends and his country. 

“Dick,” he said, “have they heard anything directly 
from Harper’s Ferry?” 

“Not a word, at least none that I’ve heard about, 
but it’s quite sure that Jackson hasn’t taken the place 
yet. Why should he? We have there twelve or thir- 
teen thousand good men, most of whom have proven 
their worth in the valley. Why, they ought to beat 
him off entirely.” 

“And while they’re doing that we ought to be tak- 
ing Mr. Lee and a lot of well-known Confederate 
gentlemen. I’ve made a close calculation, Dick, and I 
figure that the chances are at least eighty per cent in 
favor of our taking or destroying Lee’s army.” 

176 


THE DUEL IN THE PASS 

“I wish we had started sooner, 1 ” said Pennington. 
“We’ve lost a whole day, one of the most precious days 
the world has ever known." 

“You’re right, Frank, and I’ve allowed that fact to 
figure importantly in my reckoning. If it were not for 
the lost day I’d figure our chance of making the finish- 
ing stroke at ninety-five per cent. But boys, it’s glor- 
ious to be back with you. Once, I thought when we 
were marching back and forth so much that if I could 
only lie down and rest for a week or two I’d be the 
happiest fellow on earth. But it became awful as I lay 
there, day after day. I had suddenly left the world. 
All the great events were going on without me. North 
or South might win, while I lay stretched on a hospital 
bed. It was beyond endurance. If I hadn’t got well 
so fast that they could let me go, I’d have climbed out 
of the window with what strength I had, and have 
made for the army anyhow. Did you ever feel a finer 
wind than this ? What a beautiful country ! It must 
be the most magnificent in the world !’’ 

Dick and Pennington laughed. Old George was 
growing gushy. But they understood that he saw with 
the eyes of the released prisoner. 

“It is beautiful,’’ said Dick, “and it’s a pity that it 
should be ripped up by war. Listen, boys, there’s the 
call that’s growing mighty familiar to us all!’’ 

Far in front behind the hills they heard the low 
grumbling of cannon. And further away to the west 
they heard the same sinister mutter. The Confeder- 
ates were scattered widely, and the fateful Orders No. 
19 1 might cause their total destruction, but they were 


177 


THE SWORD OF. ANTIETAM 


on guard, nevertheless. Jackson, foreseeing the pos- 
sible advance of McClellan, had sent back Hill with a 
division to help Lee, and to delay the Northern army 
until he himself should come with all his force. 

In this desperate crisis of the Confederacy, more des- 
perate than any of the Southern generals yet realized, 
the brain under the old slouch hat never worked with 
more precision, clearness and brilliancy. He would 
not only do his own task, but he would help his chief 
while doing it. When McClellan began his march 
after a delay of a day he was nearer to Lee than Jack- 
son was and every chance was his, save those that 
lightning perception and unyielding courage win. 

The lads heard the mutter of the cannon grow louder, 
and rise to a distant thunder. Far ahead of them, 
where high hills thick with forest rose, they saw smoke 
and flashes of fire. A young Maryland cavalry officer, 
riding near, explained to them that the point from 
which the cannonade came was a gap in South Moun- 
tain, although it was as yet invisible, owing to the 
forest. 

“We heard that Lee’s army was much further away,” 
said Warner to Dick. “What can it mean? What 
force is there fighting our vanguard ?” 

It was Shepard, the spy, who brought them the 
facts. He had already reported to General McClellan, 
when he approached Colonel Winchester. His face 
was worn and drawn, and he was black under the 
eyes. His clothes were covered with dust. His body 
was weary almost unto death, but his eyes burned with 
the fire of an undying spirit. 

178 


THE DUEL IN THE PASS 

“I’ve been all the night and all this morning in the 
mountains and hills, ” he said. “Harper’s Ferry is not 
yet taken, but I think it will fall. But Hill, McLaws 
and Longstreet are all in this pass or the other which 
leads through the mountain. They mean to hold us as 
long as they can, and then hang on to the flank of our 
army.” 

He passed on and the little regiment advanced more 
rapidly. Dick saw Colonel Winchester’s eyes spark- 
ling and he knew he was anxious to be in the thick 
of it. Other and heavier forces were deploying upon 
the same point, but Winchester’s regiment led. 

As they approached a deadly fire swept the plain and 
the hills. Rifle bullets crashed among them and shell 
and shrapnel came whining and shrieking. Once more 
the Winchester regiment, as it had come to be called, 
was smitten with a bitter and deadly hail. Men fell 
all around Dick but the survivors pressed on, still lead- 
ing the way for the heavy brigades which they heard 
thundering behind them. 

The mouth of the pass poured forth fire and missiles 
like a volcano, but Dick heard Colonel Winchester 
still shouting to his men to come on, and he charged 
with the rest. The fire became so hot that the van- 
guard could not live in it without shelter, and the 
colonel, shouting to the officers to dismount, ordered 
them all to take cover behind trees and rocks. 

Dick who had been carried a little ahead of the rest, 
sprang down, still holding his horse, and made for a 
great rock which he saw on one side just within the 
mouth of the pass. His frightened horse reared and 


179 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


jerked so violently that he tore the bridle from the lad’s 
hand and ran away. 

Dick stood for a moment, scarcely knowing what to 
do, and then, as a half dozen bullets whistled by his 
head, urging him to do something, he finished his dash 
for the rock, throwing himself down behind it just 
as a half a dozen more bullets striking on the stone 
told him that he had done the right thing in the very 
nick of time. 

He carried with him a light rifle of a fine im- 
proved make, a number of which had been captured at 
the Second Manassas, and which some of the younger 
officers had been allowed to take. He did not drop 
it in his rush for the rock, holding on to it mechan- 
ically. 

He lay for at least a minute or two flat upon the 
ground behind the great stone, while the perspiration 
rolled from his face and his hair prickled at the roots. 
He could never learn to be unconcerned when a dozen 
or fifteen riflemen were shooting at him. 

When he raised his head a little he saw that the 
Winchester regiment had fallen back, and that, in truth, 
the entire advance had stopped until it could make an 
attack in full force upon the enemy. 

Dick recognized with a certain grim humor that he 
was isolated. He was just a little Federal island in a 
Confederate sea. Up the gap he saw cannon and 
masses of gray infantry. Gathered on a comparatively 
level spot was a troop of cavalry. He saw all the 
signs of a desperate defense, and, while he watched, 
the great guns of the South began to fire again, their 

180 


THE DUEL IN THE PASS 

missiles flying far over his head toward the Northern 
army. 

Dick was puzzled, but for the present he did not feel 
great alarm about himself. He lay almost midway 
between the hostile forces, but it was likely that they 
would take no notice of him. 

With a judgment born of a clear mind, he lay quite 
still, while the hostile forces massed themselves for 
attack and defense. Each was feeling out the other 
with cannon, but every missile passed well over his 
head, and he did not take the trouble to bow to them 
as they sailed on their errands. Yet he lay close be- 
hind that splendid and friendly rock. 

He knew that the Southerners would have sharp- 
shooters and skirmishers ahead of their main force. 
They would lie behind stones, trees and brush and at 
any moment one of them might pick him off. The 
Confederate force seemed to incline to the side of the 
valley, opposite the slope on which he lay, and he was 
hopeful that the fact would keep him hidden until the 
masses of his own people could charge into the gap. 

It was painful work to flatten his body out behind 
a stone and lie there. No trees or bushes grew near 
enough to give him shade, and the afternoon sun began 
to send down upon him direct rays that burned. He 
wondered how long it would be until the Union bri- 
gades came. It seemed to him that they were doing a 
tremendous amount of waiting. Nothing was to be 
gained by this long range cannon fire. They must 
charge home with the bayonet. 

He raised himself a little in order that he might 

181 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


peep over the stone and see if the charge were coming, 
and then with a little cry he dropped back, a fine gray 
powder stinging his face. A rifle had been fired across 
the valley and a bullet chipping the top of the rock 
sheltering Dick warned him that he was not the only 
sharpshooter who lay in an ambush. 

Peeping again from the side of the rock, he saw 
curls of blue smoke rising from a point behind a stone 
just like his own on the other side of the valley. It 
was enough to tell him that a Southern sharpshooter 
lay there and had marked him for prey. 

Dick’s anger rose. Why should anyone seek his 
life, trying to pick him off as if he were a beast of 
prey ? He had been keeping quiet, disturbing nobody, 
merely seeking a chance to escape, when this ruthless 
rebel had seen him. He became in his turn hot and 
fiercely ready to give bullet for bullet. Smoke floating 
through the passiand the flash of the cannon, made him 
more eager to hit the sharpshooter who was seeking so 
hard to hit him. 

Watching intently he caught a glimpse of a gray 
cap showing above the rock across the valley, and, rais- 
ing his light rifle, he fired, quick as a flash. The re- 
turn shot came at once, and chipped the rock as before, 
but he dropped back unhurt, and peeping from the 
side he could see nothing. He might or might not 
have slain his enemy. The gray cap was no longer 
visible, and he watched to see if it would reappear. 

He heard the sound of a great cannonade before the 
mouth of the pass, and he saw his own people advanc- 
ing in force, their lines extending far to the left and 


182 


THE DUEL IN THE PASS 


right, with several batteries showing at intervals. 
Then came the rebel yell from the pass and as the 
Union lines advanced the Southerners poured upon 
them a vast conceutrated fire. 

Dick, watching through the smoke and forgetful of 
his enemy across the valley, saw the Union charge 
rolled back. But he also saw the men out of range 
gathering themselves for a new attack. Within the 
pass preparations were going on to repel it a second 
time. Then he glanced toward the opposite rock and 
dropped down just in time. He had seen a rifle bar- 
rel protruding above it, and a second later the bullet 
whistled where his head had been. 

He grew angrier than ever. He had left that sharp- 
shooter alone for at least ten minutes, while he watched 
charge and repulse, and he expected to be treated with 
the same consideration. He would pay him for such 
ferocity, and seeing an edge of gray shoulder, he fired. 

No sign came from the rock, and Dick was quite 
sure that he had missed. The blood mounted to his 
head and surcharged his brain. A thousand little 
pulses that he had never heard of before began to beat 
in his head, and he was devoured by a consuming 
anger. He vowed to get that fellow yet. 

Lying flat upon his stomach he drew himself around 
the edge of the rock and watched. There was a great 
deal of covering smoke from the artillery in the pass 
now, and he believed that it would serve his purpose. 

But when he got a little distance away from the rock 
the bank of smoke lifted suddenly, and it was only by 
quickly flattening himself down behind a little ridge 

183 


THE SWORD OF. ANTIETAM 


of stone that he saved his life. The sharpshooter's 
bullet passed so close to his head that Dick felt as if 
he had received a complete hair cut, all in a flash. 

He fairly sprang back to the cover of his rock. 
What a fine rock that was! How big and thick! 
And it was so protective! In a spirit of defiance he 
fired at the top of the other stone and saw the gray 
dust shoot up from it. Quick came the answering shot, 
and a little piece of his coat flew with it. That was 
certainly a great sharpshooter across the valley ! Dick 
gave him full credit for his skill. 

Then he heard the rolling of drums and the mellow 
call of trumpets in front of the pass. Taking care to 
keep well under cover he looked back. The Union 
army was advancing in great force now, its front tipped 
with a long line of bayonets and the mouths of fifty 
cannon turned to the pass. In front of them swarmed 
the skirmishers, eager, active fellows leaping from 
rock to rock and from tree to tree. 

Dick foresaw that the second charge would not fail. 
Its numbers were so great that it would at least enter 
the pass and hold the mouth of it. Already a mighty 
cannonade was pouring a storm of death over the heads 
of the skirmishers toward the defenders, and the bri- 
gades came on steadily and splendidly to the continued 
rolling of the drums. 

Dick rose up again, watching now for his enemy 
who, he knew, could not remain much longer behind 
the rock, as he would soon be within range of the 
Northern skirmishers advancing on that side. 

He fancied that he could hear the massive tread of 


184 


THE DUEL IN THE PASS 


the thousands coming toward the pass, and the roll 
of the drums, distinct amid the roar of the cannon, 
told him that his comrades would soon be at hand, 
driving everything before them. But his eyes were for 
that big rock on the other side of the valley. Now 
was his time for revenge upon the sharpshooter who 
had sought his life with such savage persistence. The 
Northern skirmishers were drawing nearer and the 
fellow must flee or die. 

Suddenly the sharpshooter sprang from the rock, 
and up flew Dick’s rifle as he drew a bead straight 
upon his heart. Then he dropped the weapon with a 
cry of horror. Across the valley and through the 
smoke he recognized Harry Kenton, and Harry Ken- 
ton looking toward his enemy recognized him also. 

Each threw up his hand in a gesture of friendliness 
and farewell — the roar of the battle was so loud now 
that no voice could have been heard at the distance — 
and then they disappeared in the smoke, each return- 
ing to his own, each heart thrilling with a great joy, 
because its owner had always missed the sharpshooter 
behind the stone. 

The impression of that vivid encounter in the pass 
was dimmed for a while for Dick by the fierceness of 
the fighting that followed. The defense had the ad- 
vantage of the narrow pass and the rocky slopes, and 
numbers could not be put to the most account. Never- 
theless, the Confederates were pressed back along the 
gap, and when night came the Union army was in full 
possession of its summit. 

But at the other gap the North had not achieved 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


equal success. Longstreet, marching thirteen miles 
that day, had come upon the field in time, and when 
darkness fell the Southern troops still held their ground 
there. But later in the night Hill and Longstreet, 
through fear of being cut off, abandoned their posi- 
tions and marched to join Lee. 

Dick and his comrades who did not lie down until 
after midnight had come, felt that a great success had 
been gained. McClellan had been slow to march, but, 
now that he was marching, he was sweeping the enemy 
out of his way. 

The whole Army of the Potomac felt that it was 
winning and McClellan himself was exultant. Early 
the next morning he reported to his superior at Wash- 
ington that the enemy was fleeing in panic and that 
General Lee admitted that he had been “shockingly 
whipped.” 

Full of confidence, the army advanced to destroy 
Lee, who lay between the peninsula of the Antietam 
and the Potomac, but just about the time McClellan 
was writing his dispatch, the white flag was hoisted 
at Harper’s Ferry, the whole garrison surrendered, and 
messengers were on their way to Lee with the news 
that Stonewall Jackson was coming. 


CHAPTER IX 

ACROSS THE STREAM 

D ICK and his comrades had not heard of the 
taking of Harper’s Ferry and they were full 
of enthusiasm that brilliant morning in mid- 
September. McClellan, if slow to move, nevertheless 
had shown vigor in action, and the sanguine youths 
could not doubt that they had driven Lee into a cor- 
ner. The Confederates, after the fierce fighting of 
the day before, had abandoned both gaps, and the 
way at last lay clear before the Army of the Po- 
tomac. 

Dick was mounted again. In fact his horse, after 
pulling the reins from his hands and fleeing from the 
Confederate fire, had been retaken by a member of his 
own regiment and returned to him. It was another 
good omen. The lost had been found again and de- 
feat would become victory. 

But Dick said nothing to anybody of his duel with 
Harry Kenton. He shuddered even now when he re- 
called it. And yet there had been no guilt in either. 
Neither had known that the other lay behind the stone, 

187 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


but happy chance had made all their bullets go astray. 
Again he was thankful. 

“How did you stand that fighting yesterday after- 
noon, George?” Dick asked of Warner. 

“First rate. The open air agreed with me, and as no 
bullet sought me out I felt benefited. I didn’t get away 
from that hospital too soon. How far away is this An- 
tietam River, behind which they say Lee lies?” 

“It’s only eight miles from the gap,” said Penning- 
ton, who had been making inquiries, “and as we have 
come three miles it must be only five miles away.” 

“Correct,” said Warner, who was in an uncommonly 
fine humor. “Your mathematical power grows every 
day, Frank. Let x equal the whole distance from the 
gap to the Antietam, which is eight miles, let y equal 
the distance which we have come which is three miles, 
then x minus y equals the distance left, which is five 
miles. Wonderful! wonderful! You’ll soon have a 
great head on you, Frank.” 

“If some rebel cannoneer doesn’t shoot it off in the 
coming battle. By George, we’re driving their skir- 
mishers before us! They don’t seem to make any 
stand at all!” 

The vanguard certainly met with no very formidable 
resistance as it advanced over the rolling country. 
The sound of firing was continuous, but it came from 
small squad here and there, and after firing a few 
volleys the men in gray invariably withdrew. 

Yet the Northern advance was slow. Colonel Win- 
chester became intensely impatient again. 

“Why don’t we hurry!” he exclaimed. “Of all 


1 88 


ACROSS THE STREAM 


things in the world the one that we need most is haste. 
With Jackson tied up before Harper’s Ferry, Lee’s de- 
feat is sure, unless he retreats across the Potomac, and 
that would be equivalent to a defeat. Good Heavens, 
why don’t we push on?” 

He had not yet heard of the fall of Harper’s Ferry,, 
and that Jackson with picked brigades was already on 
the way to join Lee. Had he known these two vital 
facts his anger would have burned to a white heat. 
Surely no day lost was ever lost at a greater cost than 
the one McClellan lost after the finding of Orders 
No. 191. 

“Do you know anything about the Antietam, colo- 
nel?” asked Dick. 

“It’s a narrow stream, but deep, and crossed by sev- 
eral stone bridges. It will be hard to force a cross- 
ing here, but further up it can be done with ease since 
we outnumber Lee so much that we can overlap him 
by far. I have my information from Shepard, and 
he makes no mistakes. There is a church, too, on the 
upper part of the peninsula, a little church belonging 
to an order called the Dunkards.” 

“Ah,” murmured Dick, “the little church of Shi- 
loh!” 

“What do you mean by that?” 

“There was a little church at Shiloh, too. The bat- 
tle raged all around it more than once. We lost it at 
first, but in the end we won. It’s another good omen. 
We’re bound to achieve a great victory, colonel.” 

“I hope and believe so. We’ve the materials with 
which to do it. But we’ve got to push and push hard.” 1 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


The colonel raised his glasses and took a long look 
in front. Dick also had a pair and he, too, examined 
the country before them. It was a fine, rolling region 
and all the forest was gone, except clumps of trees here 
and there. The whole country w T ould have been heavy 
with forest had it not been for the tramp of war. 

It was now nearly noon and the sunlight was bril- 
liant and intense. The glasses carried far. Dick saw 
a line of trees which he surmised marked the course 
of the Antietam, and he saw small detachments of cav- 
alry which he knew were watching the advance of the 
Army of the Potomac. Their purpose convinced him 
that Lee had not retreated across the Potomac, but 
that he would fight and surely lose. Dick now believed 
that so many good omens could not fail. 

A horseman galloped toward them. It was Shepard 
again, dustier than ever, his face pale from weariness. 

“What is it, Mr. Shepard ?” asked Colonel Winches- 
ter. 

“I’ve just reported to General McClellan that our 
whole command at Harper’s Ferry, thirteen thousand 
strong, surrendered early this morning and that Jack- 
son with picked men has already started to join Lee!” 

“My God ! My God !” cried the colonel. “Oh, that 
lost day ! We ought to have fought yesterday and de- 
stroyed Lee, while Harper’s Ferry was still holding 
out ! What a day ! What a day ! Nothing can ever 
pay us back for the losing of it!” 

Dick, too, felt a sinking of the heart, but despair 
was not written on his face as it was on that of his 
colonel. Jackson might come, but it would only be 

190 


ACROSS THE STREAM 


with a part of his force, that which marched the swift- 
est, and the victory of the Army of the Potomac would 
be all the grander. The more enemies crushed the bet- 
ter it would be for the Union. 

“Why, colonel !” he exclaimed, “we can beat them 
anyhow !” 

“That’s so, my lad, so we can! And so we will! 
It was childish of me to talk as I did. Here, Johnson, 
blow your best on that trumpet. I want our regiment 
to be the first to reach the Antietam.” 

Johnson blew a long and mellow tune and the Win- 
chester regiment swung forward at a more rapid gait. 
The weather, after a day or two of coolness, had 
grown intensely hot again, and the noon sun poured 
down upon them sheaves of fiery rays. Dick looked 
back, and he saw once more that vast billowing cloud of 
dust made by the marching army. But in front he saw 
only quiet and peace, save for a few distant horsemen 
who seemed to be riding at random. 

“There’s a little town called Sharpsburg in the pen- 
insula formed by the Potomac and the Antietam,” said 
Shepard, who stayed with them, his immediate work 
done, “and the Potomac being very low, owing to 
the dry season, there is one ford by which Lee can 
cross and go back to Virginia. But he isn’t going 
to cross without a battle, that’s sure. The rebels are 
flushed with victory, they think they have the greatest 
leaders ever born and they believe, despite the dis- 
parity of numbers, that they can beat us.” 

“And I believe they can’t” said Dick. 

“If it were not for that lost day we’d have ’em 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


beaten now,” said Shepard, “and we’d be marching 
against Jackson.” 

The regiment in its swift advance now came nearer 
to the Antietam, the narrow but deep creek between its 
high banks. One or two shots from the far side warned 
them to come more slowly, and Colonel Winchester 
drew his men up on a knoll, waiting for the rest of 
the army to advance. 

Dick put his glasses to his eyes, and slowly swept 
a wide curve on the peninsula of Antietam. Great 
armies drawn up for battle were a spectacle that no 
boy could ever view calmly, and his heart beat so hard 
that it caused him actual physical pain. 

He saw through the powerful. glasses the walls of the 
little village of Sharpsburg, and to the north a roof 
which he believed was that of the Dunkard Church, of 
which Shepard spoke. But his eyes came back from 
the church and rested on the country around Sharps- 
burg. The Confederate masses were there and he 
clearly saw the batteries posted along the Antietam. 
Beyond the peninsula he caught glimpses of the broad 
Potomac. 

There lay Lee before them again, and now was 
the time to destroy his army. Jackson, even with his 
vanguard, could not arrive before night, and the main 
force certainly could not come from Harper’s Ferry be- 
fore the morrow. Here was a full half day for the 
Army of the Potomac, enough in which to destroy a 
divided portion of the Army of Northern Virginia. 

But Colonel Winchester raged again and again in 
vain. There was no attack. Brigade after brigade in 


192 


ACROSS THE STREAM 


blue came up and sat down before the Antietam. The 
cannon exchanged salutes across the little river, but no 
harm was done, and the great masses of McClellan 
faced the whole peninsula, within which lay Lee with 
half of his army. The Winchester regiment was moved 
far to the north, where its officers hopefully believed 
that the first attack would be made. Here they ex- 
tended beyond Lee’s line, and it would be easy to cross 
the Antietam and hurl themselves upon his flank. 

Despite the delay, Dick and his comrades, thrilled at 
the great and terrible panorama spread before them. 
The mid-September day had become as hot as those 
of August had been. The late afternoon sun was 
brazen, and immense clouds of dust drifted about. 
But they did not hide the view of the armies, arrayed 
for battle, and with only a narrow river between. 

Dick, through his own glasses saw Confederate of- 
ficers watching them also. He tried to imagine that 
this was Lee and that Longstreet, and that one of the 
Hills, and the one who wore a gorgeous uniform must 
surely be Stuart. Why should they be allowed to ride 
about so calmly? His heart fairly ached for the at- 
tack. McClellan said that fifty thousand men were 
there, and that Jackson was coming with fifty thou- 
sand more, but Shepard, who always knew, said that 
they did not number more than twenty thousand. 
What a chance ! What a chance ! He almost repeated 
Colonel Winchester’s words, but he was only a young 
staff officer and it was not for him to complain. If 
he said anything at all he would have to say it in a 
guarded manner and to his best friends. 


193 


THE SWORD OF. ANTIETAM 


The Winchester regiment went into camp in a 
pleasant grove at the northern end of the Union line. 
Dick and his two young comrades had no fault to 
find with their quarters. They had dry grass, warm 
air and the open sky. A more comfortable summer 
home for a night could not be asked. And there was 
plenty of food, too. The Army of the Potomac never 
lacked it. The coffee was already boiling in the pots, 
and beef and pork were frying in the skillets. Heav- 
enly aromas arose. 

Dick and his comrades ate and drank, and then lay 
down in the grove. If they must rest they would rest 
well. Now and then they heard the booming of guns, 
and just before dark there had been a short artillery 
duel across the Antietam, but now the night was quiet, 
save for the murmur and movement of a great army. 
Through the darkness came the sound of many voices 
and the clank of moving wheels. 

Dick asked permission for his two comrades and 
himself to go down near the river and obtained it. 

“But don’t get shot,” cautioned Colonel Winchester. 
“The Confederate riflemen will certainly be on watch 
on the other side of the stream.” 

Dick promised and the three went forward very care- 
fully among some bushes. They were led on by curi- 
osity and they did not believe that they would be in 
any great danger. The singular friendliness which 
always marked the pickets of the hostile armies in 
the Civil War would prevail. 

It was several hundred yards down to the An- 
tietam, and luckily the ribbon of bushes held out. 


194 


ACROSS THE STREAM 


But when they were half way to the stream a thick, 
dark figure rose up before them. Dick, in an instant, 
recognized Sergeant Whitley. 

“We want to get a nearer view of the enemy, ,, said 
the boy. 

“I’ll go with you,” said the sergeant. “I’m on what 
may be called scouting duty. Besides, I’ve a couple 
of friends down there by the river, but on the other 
side.” 

“Friends on the other side of the Antietam. What 
do you mean, sergeant ?” 

“I was scouting along there and I came across ’em. 
Only one in fact is an old acquaintance, an’ he’s just 
introduced me to the other.” 

“That’s cryptic.” 

“I don’t rightly know what ‘cryptic’ means, but 
I guess I don’t make myself understood well. In 
my campaign on the plains against the Indians I had 
a comrade named Bill Brayton. A Tennesseean, Bill 
was an’ a fine feller, too. Him an’ me have bunked to- 
gether many a time an’ we’ve dug out of the snow 
together, too, after the blizzards was over. But when 
we saw the war cornin’ up, Bill had fool notions. Said 
he didn’t know anything ’bout the right an’ wrong of 
it, guessed there was some of each on each side, but 
whichever way his state would flop, he’d flop. Well, 
we waited. Tennessee flopped right out of the Union 
an’ Bill flopped with it. 

“I felt powerful sorry when Bill told me good-bye, 
and so did he. I ain’t seen or heard of him since ’till 
to-night, when I was cruisin’ down there by the side 


195 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


of the river in the dark an’ keepin’ under cover of 
the bushes. Had no intention of shootin’ anybody. 
Just wanted to take a look. I saw on the other side 
a dim figure walkin' up an’ down, rifle on shoulder. 
Thought I noticed something familiar about it, an’ the 
longer I watched the shorer I was. 

“At last I crept right to the edge of the bank an’ 
layin’ down lest some fool who didn’t know the man- 
ners of our war take a pot shot at me, I called out, 
‘Bill Brayton, you thick-headed rebel, are you well an' 
doin' well’?" 

“You ought to have seen him jump. He stopped 
walkin', dropped his rifle in the hollow of his arm, 
looked the way my voice come and called out, likewise 
in a loud voice: ' ‘Who's callin’ me a thick-headed 
rebel? Is it some blue-backed Yankee ? You know 
we see nothin' of you but your backs. Come out 
in the light, an' I’ll let some sense into you with a 
bullet." 

“ ‘Oh, no I won't,' says 'I, still layin' close, an’ not 
mindin’ his taunt 'bout seein’ our backs only. ‘You 
couldn't hit me if I stood up an' marked the place on 
my chest. Nothin' will save you but them days on 
the plain in the blizzards when you was more useful 
with a shovel than you are with a rifle, 'cause to-mor- 
row at sunrise we’re goin’ to cross this little river and 
tie all you fellows hand an' foot an’ take you away as 
prisoners to Washington.' 

“That made him mighty mad, but the part 'bout the 
blizzards on the plains set him to thinkin’, too. ‘Who 
in thunderation are you?' sez he. ‘You’re Bill Bray- 

196 


ACROSS THE STREAM 


ton, of Tennessee, fightin’ in the rebel army, when you 
ought to know better/ says I. ‘Now, who in thun- 
deration am I ? ‘Sufferin’ Moses !’ says he, ‘that voice 
grows more like his every time he speaks. It can’t 
be that empty-headed galoot, Dan Whitley, who never 
knew nothin’ ’bout the rights an’ wrongs of the war, an’ 
had to go off with the Yanks!’ 

“ ‘It’s him an’ nobody else,’ says I, as I rose right 
up an’ stood there on the bank, ‘an’ mighty glad am I 
to see you Bill, an’ to know that your fool head ain’t 
knocked off by a cannon ball.’ He shorely jumped up 
an’ down with pleasure an’ he called back : ‘The good 
Lord certainly watches over them that ain’t got any 
sense. Dan, you flat-headed, hump-backed, round- 
shouldered, thin-chested, knock-kneed, club-footed son 
of a gun, I was never so glad to see anybody before 
in my life.’ 

“His eyes were shinin’ with delight an’ I know mine 
was, too. Reunions of old friends who for all each 
know have been dead a year or two, clean blowed to 
pieces by shells, or shot through by a hundred rifle 
bullets are powerful affectin’. He come down to the 
edge of the river an’ he shot questions across to me, an’ 
I shot questions at him, an’ I felt as if a brother had 
riz from the dead. An’ as we can’t shake hands we 
reaches out the muzzles of our guns and shakes them 
towards each other in the most friendly way. Then 
another picket comes up, fellow by name of Hen- 
derson, from Mississippi. Bill introduces him to his 
good old pal, an’ we three have a friendly talk. Guess 
they’re down there yet, if you want to see ’em. I liked 


197 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 

that fellow, Henderson, too, though he was a powerful 
boaster.” 

“All right,” said Dick. “Lead on, but don’t get us 
shot.” 

They went cautiously through the bushes to the bank 
of the river, and then the sergeant blew softly be- 
tween his fingers. Two figures at once appeared on 
the other side, and Sergeant Whitley and the boys 
rose up. 

“Mr. Brayton and Mr. Henderson,” said the ser- 
geant politely, “I want to introduce my friends, Lieu- 
tenant Mason, Lieutenant Warner and Lieutenant Pen- 
nington.” 

“Movin’ in mighty good comp’ny, though young, 
Dan,” said Brayton, who was about Whitley’s age 
and build. 

“They’re officers, an’ they’re young, as you say,” 
said Whitley, “but they’re good ones.” 

“Them’s the kind we eat alive, when we ain’t got 
anything else to eat,” said the Mississippian, a very tall, 
sallow and youngish man. “We’re never too strong 
on rations, and when I eat prisoners I like ’em under 
twenty the best. They ain’t had time to get tough. 
I speak right now for that yellow-haired one in the 
middle.” 

“You can’t swallow me,” said Pennington, good na- 
turedly. “I’ll just turn myself crossways and stick 
in your throat.” 

“What are you fellows after around here, anyway?” 
continued the Mississippian. “The weather’s hot an’ 
we all want to go in swimmin’ to-morrow, bein’ as 


ACROSS THE STREAM 


we have two rivers handy. Shore as you live if you get 
to botherin’ us we’ll hurt you.” 

“You won’t hurt us,” said Dick, “because to-morrow 
we’re going to surround you and drive you into a 
coop.” 

“Drive us in a coop. See here, Yank, you’re gettin’ 
excited. Do you know how many men we have here 
waitin’ for you? Of course you don’t. Why, it’s four 
hundred thousand, ain’t it, Bill?” 

“No, it’s just two hundred thousand. I don’t be- 
lieve in lyin’ fur effect, Jim.” 

“I ain’t lyin’. There’s two hundred thousand men. 
Then there’s Bobby Lee. That’s a hundred thousand 
more, which makes three hundred thousand. Then 
there’s Stonewall Jackson, who’s another hundred thou- 
sand, which brings the figures up to exactly what I 
said, four hundred thousand. Now, ain’t I right, 
Bill?” 

“You shorely are, Jim. I was a fool for countin’ the 
way I did. Will you overlook it this time?” 

“Wa’al, I will this time, but be shore you don’t do 
it ag’in. Now, see here, you Yanks : we like you well 
enough. You’re friends of Bill, who is a friend of 
me. Just you take my advice an’ go home. Start to- 
night while the weather is warm, an’ the roads are 
good. If you’re afraid of our chasin’ you we’ll give 
you a runnin’ start of a hunderd miles.” 

“Wa’al now, that’s right kind of you,” said Whit- 
ley. “I for one might take your advice, but I was 
froze up so much in them wild mountains an’ plains 
of the northwest that I like to go south when the 


199 


THE SWORD OF. ANTIETAM 


winter’s comm’ on. It’s hot now, all right, but in two 
months the chilly blasts will be seekin’ my marrow.” 

“I was speakin’ for your own good,” said the Mis- 
sissippi gravely. “Anyway, you won’t be troubled 
by the cold weather ’cause if you don’t go back into the 
no’th where you belong, we’ll be takin’ you a prisoner 
way down south, where you don’t belong. But you 
could have a good time there. We won’t treat you 
bad. There’s fine huntin’ for b’ars in the canebrake 
an’ the rivers an’ bayous are full of fish. Your cap- 
tivity won’t be downright painful on you.” 

“Glad to get your welcome, Mr. Henderson,” said 
Whitley, “ ’cause we’ve heard a lot ’bout the hospi- 
tality of Mississippi, an’ we’re shorely goin’ to stretch 
it. I’m cornin’, an’ I’m bringin’ a couple of hundred 
thousand fellers ’bout my size with me. Funny thing, 
we’ll all wear blue coats just alike. Think you’d find 
room for us?” 

“Plenty of it. What was it the feller said — we wel- 
come you with bloody hands to hospitable graves — but 
we ain’t feelin’ that way to-night. Got a plug of ter- 
backer ?” 

The sergeant took out a square of tobacco, cut it 
in exact halves with his pocket knife, and tossed one- 
half across the Antietam, where it was deftly caught 
by the Mississippian. 

“Thanks mightily,” said Henderson. “Mr. Commis- 
sary Banks used to supply us with good things, then 
it was Mr. Commissary Pope, and now I reckon it’ll 
be Mr. Commissary McClellan. Say, how many fellers 
have you got over thar, anyway?” 


200 


ACROSS THE STREAM 


“When I counted ’em last night,” replied the sergeant 
calmly, “there was five hundred and twelve thousand 
two hundred and fifty-three infantry, sixty-four thou- 
sand two hundred and nineteen cavalry an’ three thou- 
sand one hundred and seventy-five cannon, but I reckon 
we’ll receive reinforcements of three hundred thousand 
before mornin’.” 

“Then we’ll have more prisoners than I thought. 
Are you shore them three hundred thousand reinforce- 
ments will get up in time ?” 

“Quite shore. I’ve sent ’em word to hurry.” 

“Then we’ll have to take them, too.” 

“Time you fellers quit your talkin’,” said Brayton,. 
“a major or a colonel may come strollin’ ’long here 
any minute, an’ they don’t like for us fellers to be too 
friendly. Dan, I’m powerful glad to see you ag’in, an’ 
I hope you won’t get killed. I’ve a feelin’ that you an* 
me will be ridin’ over the plains once more some day, 
an’ we won’t be fightin’ each other. We’ll be fightin’ 
Sioux an’ Cheyennes an’ all that red lot, just as we 
did in the old days. Here’s a good-bye.” 

He thrust out the muzzle of his gun, an’ Whitley 
thrust out his. Then they shook them at each other in 
friendly salute, and the little group moved away from 
the river bank. 

“I’m glad I’ve seen Bill again/’ said the sergeant. 
“Fine feller an’ that Mississippian with him was quaint 
like. Mighty big bragger.” 

“You did some bragging yourself, sergeant,” said 
Dick. 

“So I did, but it was in answer to Henderson. I’m 


201 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


glad we had that little talk across the river. It was a 
friendly thing to do, before we fall to slaughterin’ one 
another.” 

They rejoined Colonel Winchester, and Dick worked 
through a part of the night carrying orders and other 
messages. A great movement was going on. Fresh 
troops were continually coming up, but there was little 
noise beyond the Antietam, although he saw the light 
of many fires. 

He slept after midnight and awoke at dawn, expect- 
ing to go at once into battle. Some of the troops were 
moved about and Colonel Winchester began to rage 
again. 

“Good God ! can it be possible !” he exclaimed, “that 
another day will be lost ? Is General McClellan instead 
of General Lee waiting for Jackson to come? With 
the enemy safely within the trap, we refuse to shut it 
down upon him !” 

He said these things only within the hearing of Dick, 
who he knew would never repeat them. But he was 
not the only one to complain. Men higher in rank than 
he, generals, spoke their discontent openly. Why 
would not McClellan attack? He had claimed that the 
rebels had two hundred thousand men at the Seven 
Days, when it was well known that half that figure or 
less was their true number. Why should he persist in 
seeing the enemy double, and even if Lee did have fifty 
thousand men on the other side of the Antietam, in- 
stead of the twenty thousand the scouts assigned to 
him, the Army of the Potomac could defeat him before 
Jackson came up. 


202 


ACROSS THE STREAM 


But McClellan was overcome by caution. In spite of 
everything he doubled or tripled the numbers of the 
enemy. Personally brave beyond dispute, he feared 
for his army. The position of the enemy on the penin- 
sula seemed to have changed somewhat through the 
night. He believed that the batteries had been moved 
about, and he telegraphed to W ashington that he must 
find out exactly the disposition of Lee’s forces and 
where the fords were. 

Meanwhile the long, hot hours dragged on. The 
dust trodden up by so many marching feet was ter- 
rible. It hung in clouds and added a sting to the 
burning heat. Dick was wild with impatience, but he 
knew that it was not worth while to say anything. 
He, Warner and Pennington, for the lack of some- 
thing else to do, lay on the dry grass, whispering and 
watching as well as they could what was going on in 
Sharpsburg. 

Meanwhile Sharpsburg itself seemed a monument to 
peace. It was deep in dust and the sun blazed on the 
roofs. Staff officers rode up, and when they dis- 
mounted they lazily led their horses to the best shade 
that could be found. Within a residence Lee sat in 
close conference with his lieutenants, Stonewall Jack- 
son and Longstreet. Now and then, they looked at the 
reports of brigade commanders and sometimes they 
studied the maps of Maryland and Virginia. Lee was 
calm and confident. The odds against him — and he 
knew what they were — apparently mattered noth- 
ing. 

He knew the strength and spirit of his army and to 


203 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


what a pitch it was keyed by victory. Moreover, he 
knew McClellan, whom he had met at the Seven Days, 
and he believed, in truth he felt positive that McClellan 
would delay long enough for the remainder of Jack- 
son’s troops to come up. Upon this belief he staked the 
future of the Confederacy in the battle to be fought 
there between the Potomac and the Antietam. His 
troops were worn by battles and tremendous marches. 
Jackson’s men in three days had marched sixty miles, 
and had fought a battle at Harper’s Ferry within that 
time, also, taking more than thirteen thousand pris- 
oners. Never before had the foot cavalry marched so 
hard. 

The men in gray, ragged and many of them bare- 
footed, slept in the woods about Sharpsburg all 
through the hot hours of the day. Their officers had 
told them that the drums and bugles would call them 
when needed, and they sank quietly into the deepest of 
slumbers. From where they lay Red Hill, a spur of 
a mountain, separated them from the Union army. It 
was only those like Dick and his comrades who 
mounted elevations and who had powerful field glasses 
who could see into Sharpsburg. The main Union 
force saw only the top of a church spire or two in 
the village. But each felt fully the presence of the 
other and knew that the battle could not be delayed 
long. 

Dick, in his anxiety and excitement, fell asleep 
The heat and ( the waiting seemed to overpower him. 
He did not know how long he had slept, but he was 
awakened by the sharp call of a trumpet, and when 


204 


ACROSS THE STREAM 


he sprang to his feet Warner told him it was about 
four o’clock. 

“What’s up?” he cried, as he wiped the haze of heat 
and dust from his eyes. 

“We’re about to march,” replied Warner, “but as it’s 
so late in the day I don’t think it can be a general at- 
tack. Still, I know that our division is going to cross 
the Antietam. Up here the stream is narrower than it 
is down below, and the banks are not so high. Look, 
the colonel is beckoning to us ! Here we go !” 

They sprang upon their horses, and a great corps 
advanced toward the Antietam, far above the town 
of Sharpsburg. The sun had declined in the West, and 
a breeze, bringing a little coolness, had begun to blow. 
They did not see much preparation for defense beyond 
the river, but as they advanced some cannon in the 
woods opened there. The Union cannon replied, and 
then the brigades in blue moved forward swiftly. 

The officers and the cavalry galloped their horses 
into the little river and Dick felt a fierce joy as the 
water was dashed into his face. This was action, move- 
ment, the attack that had been delayed so long but 
which was not yet too late. He thought nothing of 
the shells hissing and shrieking over his head, and he 
shouted with the others in exultation as they passed 
fehe fords of the Antietam and set foot on the penin- 
sula. The cannon dashed after them through the 
stream and up the bank. 

A heavy rifle fire from the woods met them, but 
the triumphant division pressed on. They were held 
back at the edge of the woods by cannon aiding the 


205 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


rifles, and for some time a battle swayed back and 
forth, but the Confederate resistance ceased suddenly. 
Infantry and batteries disappeared in woods or beyond 
a ridge, and then Dick noticed that night was coming. 
The sun was already hidden by the lofty slopes of the 
western mountains, and there would be no battle that 
day. In another half hour full darkness would be 
upon them. 

But Dick felt that something had been achieved. 
A powerful Union force was now beyond the Antietam, 
with its feet rooted firmly in the soil of the peninsula. 
It looked directly south at the Confederate army and 
there was no barrier between. Lee would have to face 
at once, Hooker on the north and McClellan on the 
east across the Antietam. The Union army had been 
numerous enough to outflank him. 

Dick was quite sure of success now. They had lost 
two of the most precious of all days instead of one, 
but they had closed the gap on the north, through 
which Lee’s army might march in an attempt to escape. 
It was likely, too, that the last of Jackson’s men would 
come that way and the Union force would cut them off 
from Lee. Two entire army corps were now beyond 
the Antietam, and they should be able to do any- 
thing. 

The Winchester regiment lay in deep woods, and the 
great division although it had rested nearly all the 
day was quiet in the night. But some ardent souls 
could not rest. A group of officers, including Colo- 
nel Winchester and the three young members of his 
staff, walked forward through the woods, taking the 


206 



“The officers and the cavalry galloped their horses into 

the little river.” 


v :• v;v : 






E - . . • , 1 

; ‘ I 



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ACROSS THE STREAM 


chance of stray shots from sentinels or skirmishers. 
But they knew that this risk was not great. 

They passed near a mill, its wheels and saws silent 
now, and presently as the moon rose they saw the 
square white walls of a building shining in its light. 

“The Dunkard church,” said one of the officers. 
“I think we’d better not go any closer. The John- 
nies must be lying thick close at hand.” 

“The dim light off to the right must be made by 
their fires,” said Colonel Winchester. “I wish I knew 
what troops they are. Jackson’s perhaps. It’s a rough 
country, and all these forests and ridges and hills will 
help the defense. I understand that the farms in here 
are surrounded by stone fences and that, too, will help 
the Johnnies.” 

“But we’ll get ’em,” said another confidently. “The 
battle can’t be put off any longer, and we’re bound to 
smash ’em in the morning.” 

They remained in the darkness for a while, trying to 
see what was passing toward the Southern lines, but 
they could see little. There was some rifle firing after 
a while, and the occasional deep note of a cannon, 
mostly at random and the little group walked back. 

“I’m going to sleep, Dick,” said Warner. “I’ve 
just remembered that I’m an invalid and that if I 
overtask myself it will be a bad thing for McClellan 
to-morrow. The colonel doesn’t want us any longer, 
and so here goes.” 

“I follow,” said Pennington. “The dry earth is 
good enough for me. May I stay on top of it for the 
next half century.” 


207 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


Warner and Pennington slept quickly, but Dick lay 
awake a long time, listening to the stray rifle shots 
and the distant boom of a cannon at far intervals. 
After a while, he looked at his watch and saw that it 
was midnight It was more than an hour later when 
slumber overtook him, and while he and his comrades 
lay there the last of Jackson’s men were coming with 
the help that Lee needed so sorely. 

Two divisions which had been left at Harper’s Ferry 
started at midnight just as Dick was looking at his 
watch and at dawn they were almost to the Potomac. 
On their flank was a cavalry brigade and A. P. Hill 
was hurrying with another of infantry. Messenger 
after messenger from them came to Lee that on the 
fateful day they with their fourteen thousand bayo- 
nets would be in line when they were needed most. 

Few of those who fought for the Lost Cause ever 
cherished anything more vividly than those hours be- 
tween midnight and the next noon when they marched 
at the double quick across hill and valley and forest 
to the relief of their great commander. There was 
little need for the officers to urge them on, and at 
sunrise the rolling of the cannon was calling to them 
to come faster, always faster. 


CHAPTER X 

ANTIETAM 

D ICK arose at the first flash of dawn. All the 
men of the Winchester regiment were on their 
feet. The officers had sent their horses to the 
rear, knowing that they would be worse than useless 
among the rocks and in the forest in front of them. 

A mist arising from the two rivers floated over 
everything, but Dick knew that the battle was at hand. 
The Northern trumpets were calling, and in the haze 
in front of them the Southern trumpets were calling, 
too. 

The fog lifted, and then Dick saw the Confederate 
lines stretched through forest, rock and ploughed 
ground. Near the front was a rail fence with lines 
of skirmishers crouching behind it. As the last bit 
of mist rolled away the fence became a twisted line 
of flame. The fire of the Southern skirmishers crashed 
in the Union ranks, and the Northern skirmishers, 
pressing in on the right replied with a fire equally swift 
and deadly. Then came the roar of the Southern can- 
non, well aimed and tearing gaps in the Union lines. 


209 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


“Its time to charge !” exclaimed Pennigton. “It 
scares me, standing still under the enemy’s fire, but I 
forget about it when I’m rushing forward.” 

The Winchester regiment did not move for the pres- 
ent, although the battle thickened and deepened about 
it. The fire of the Confederate cannon was heavy and 
terrible, yet the Union masses on either wing had be- 
gun to press forward. Hooker hurled in two divisions, 
one under Meade, and one under Doubleday, and an- 
other came up behind to support them. The western 
men were here and remembering how they had been 
decimated at Manassas, they fought for revenge as 
well as patriotism. 

At last the Winchester regiment in the center moved 
forward also. They struck heavy ploughed land, and 
as they struggled through it they met a devastating 
fire. It seemed to Dick that the last of the little regi- 
ment was about to be blown away, but as he looked 
through the fire and smoke he saw Warner and Pen- 
nington still by his side, and the colonel a little ahead, 
waving his sword and shouting orders that could not 
be heard. 

Dick saw shining far before him the white walls of 
the Dunkard church, and he was seized with a irantic 
desire to reach it. It seemed to him if they could get 
there that the victory would be won. Yet they made 
little progress. The cannon facing them fairly spouted 
fire, and thousands of expert riflemen in front of them 
lying behind ridges and among rocks and bushes sent 
shower after shower of leaden balls that swept away 
the front ranks of the charging Union lines. The 


210 


ANTIETAM 


shell and the shrapnel and the grape and the round 
shot made a great noise, but the little bullets coming 
in swarms like bees were the true messengers of death. 

Jackson and four thousand of his veterans formed 
the thin line between the Dunkard church and the An- 
tietam. They were ragged and worn by war, but they 
were the children of victory, led by a man of genius, 
and they felt equal to any task. Near Jackson stood 
his favorite young aide, Harry Kenton, and on the 
other side was the thin regiment of the Invincibles, led 
by Colonel Leonidas Talbot, and Lieutenant-Colonel 
Hector St. Hilaire. 

Around the church itself were the Texans under 
Hood, stalwart, sunburned men who could ride like 
Comanches, some of whom when lads had been pres- 
ent at San Jacinto, when the Texans struck with such 
terrible might and success for liberty. 

“Are we winning? Tell me, that we are winning!” 
shouted Dick in Warner’s ear. 

“We’re not winning, but we will! Confound that 
fog! It’s coming up again !” Warner shouted back. 

The heavy fog from the Potomac and the Antietam 
which the early and burning sunrise had driven away 
was drifting back, thickened by the smoke from the 
cannon and rifles. The gray lines in front disappeared 
and the church was hidden. Yet the Northern artillery 
continued to pour a terrible fire through the smoke 
toward the point where the Confederate infantry had 
been posted. 

Dick heard at the same time a tremendous roar on 
the left, and he knew that the Union batteries beyond 


21 1 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


the Antietam had opened a flanking fire on the South- 
ern army. He breathed a sigh of triumph. McClellan, 
who could organize and prepare so well, was aroused 
at last to such a point that he could concentrate his 
full strength in battle itself, and push home with all 
his might until able to snatch the reward, victory. As 
the lad heard the supporting guns across the Antietam, 
he suddenly found himself shouting with all his might. 
His voice could not be heard in the uproar, but he saw 
that the lips of those about him were moving in like 
manner. 

The two corps on the peninsula had a good leader 
that morning. Hooker, fiery, impetuous, scorning 
death, continually led his men to the attack. The gaps 
in their ranks were closed up, and on they went, in- 
fantry, cavalry and artillery. The fog blew away 
again and they beheld once more the gray lines of 
the Southerners, and the white wooden walls of the 
church. 

So fierce and overwhelming was the Northern rush 
that all of Jackson’s men and the Texans were borne 
back, and were driven from the ridges and out of the 
woods. Exultant, the men in blue followed, their roar 
of triumph swelling above the thunder of the battle., 

“Victory !” cried Dick, but Warner shouted : 

“Lookout!” 

The keen eyes of the young Vermonter had seen 
masses of infantry and cavalry on their flank. Hooker, 
fierce and impetuous, had gone too far, and now the 
Southern trumpets sang the charge. Stuart, fiery and 
dauntless, his saber flashing, led his charging horse- 


212 


ANTIETAM 


men, and Hill threw his infantry upon the Northern 
flank. 

It seemed to Dick that he was in a huge volcano of 
fire and smoke. Men who, in their calm moments, did 
not hate one another, glared into hostile eyes. There 
was often actual physical contact, and the flash 
from the cannon and rifles blazed in Dick’s face. The 
Southerners in front who had been driven back re- 
turned, and as Stuart and Hill continued to beat 
hard upon their flanks, the troops of Hooker were 
compelled to retreat. Once more the white church 
faded in the mists and smoke. 

But Hooker and his generals rallied their men and 
advanced anew. The ground around the Dunkard 
church became one of the most sanguinary places in 
all America. One side advanced and then the other, 
and they continually reeled to and fro. Even the 
young soldiers knew the immensity of the stake. This 
was the open ground, elsewhere the Antietam separ- 
ated the fighting armies. But victory here would de- 
cide the whole battle, and the war, too. The Northern 
troops fought for a triumph that would end all, and 
the Southern troops for salvation. 

So close and obstinate was the conflict that colonels 
and generals themselves were in the thick of it. Starke 
and Lawton of the South were both killed. Mansfield, 
who led one of the Northern army corps fell dead in 
the very front line, and the valiant Hooker, caught in 
the arms of his soldiers, was borne away so severely 
wounded that he could no longer give orders. 

Scarcely any generals were left on either side, but 


213 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


the colonels and the majors and the captains still led 
the men into the thick of the conflict. Dick felt a ter- 
rible constriction. It was as if some one were choking 
him with powerful hands, and he strove for breath. 
He knew that the masses pressed upon their flank by 
Stuart and Hill, were riddling them through and 
through. 

The Union men were giving ground, slowly, it is 
true, and leaving heaps of dead and wounded behind 
them, but nobody could stand the terrible rifle fire that 
was raking them at short range from side to side, and 
they were no longer able to advance. Now Dick heard 
once more that terrible and triumphant rebel yell, and 
it seemed to him that they were about to be destroyed 
utterly, when shell and shot began to shriek and whistle 
over their heads. The woods behind them were alive 
with the blaze of fire, and the great Union batteries 
were driving back the triumphant and cheering Con- 
federates. 

The Union generals on the other side of the Antie- 
tam saw the fate that was about to overtake Hooker's 
valiant men, and Sumner, with another army corps, 
had crossed the river to the rescue, coming just in time. 
They moved up to Hooker's men and the united masses 
returned to the charge. 

The battle grew more desperate with the arrival of 
fresh troops. Again it was charge and repulse, charge 
and repulse, and the continuous swaying to and fro 
by two combatants, each resolved to win. There were 
the Union men who had forced the passes through the 
mountains to reach this field, and they were struggling 


214 


ANTIETAM 


to follow up those successes by a victory far greater, 
and there were the Confederates resolved upon another 
glorious success. 

The fire became so tremendous that the men could 
no longer hear orders. Here was a field of ripe corn, 
the stems and blades higher than a man’s head, forty 
acres or so, nearly a quarter of a mile each way, but 
the corn soon ceased to hide the combatants from one 
another. The fire from the cannon and rifles came in 
such close sheets that scarcely a stalk stood upright in 
that whole field. 

Long this mighty conflict swayed back and forth. 
Dick had seen nothing like it before, not even at the 
Second Manassas. It was almost hand to hand. Can- 
nons were lost and retaken by each side. Stuart, find- 
ing the ground too rough for his cavalry, dismounted 
them and put them at the guns. Jackson, with an eye 
that missed nothing, called up Early’s brigade and 
hurled it into the battle. The North replied with fresh 
troops, and the combat was as much in doubt as ever. 
Every brigade commander on the Southern side had 
been killed or wounded. Nearly all the colonels had 
fallen, but Jackson’s men still fought with a fire and 
spirit that only such a leader as he could inspire. 

It seemed to Dick that the whole world was on fire 
with the flash of cannon and rifles. The roar and crash 
came from not only in front and around him, but far 
down the side, where the main army of McClellan was 
advancing directly upon the Antietam, and the stone 
bridges which the Confederates had not found time 
to tear down. 


215 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


There stood Lee, supremely confident that if his lieu- 
tenant, Jackson, could not hold the Northern opening 
into the peninsula nobody could. His men, who knew 
the desperate nature of the crisis, said that they 
had never seen him more confident than he was that 
day. 

On the ridge just south of the village was a huge 
limestone bowlder, and Lee, field glasses in hand, stood 
on it. He listened a while to the growing thunder of 
the battle in the north — the Dunkard church, around 
which Jackson and Hooker were fighting so desperate- 
ly, was a mile away — but he soon turned his atten- 
tion to the blue masses across the Antietam. 

The Southern commander faced the Antietam with 
the hard-hitting Longstreet on his right, his left being 
composed of the forces of Jackson, already in furious 
conflict. Nothing escaped him. As he listened to the 
thunder of the dreadful battle in the north, he never 
ceased to watch the great army in front of him on 
the other side of the little river. 

While Hooker and his men were fighting with such 
desperate courage, why did not McClellan and the 
main body of the Union army move forward to the 
attack? Doubtless Lee asked himself this question, 
and doubtless also he had gauged accurately the mind 
of the Union leader, who always saw two or even three 
enemies where but one stood. Relying so strongly 
upon his judgment he dared to strip himself yet fur- 
ther and send more men to Jackson. A messenger 
brought him news that more of Jackson's men had 
come to his aid and that he was now holding the whole 


216 


ANTIETAM 


line against the attacks of Meade and Hooker and all 
the rest. 

Lee nodded and turned his glasses again toward the 
long blue line across the Antietam. McClellan himself 
was there, standing on a hill and also watching. 
Around him was a great division under the command 
of Burnside, and his time to win victory had come. 
He sent the order to Burnside to move forward and 
force the Antietam. It is said that at this moment Lee 
had only five thousand men with him, all the rest hav- 
ing been sent to Jackson, and, if so, time itself fought 
against the Union, as it was a full two hours before 
Burnside carried out his order and moved forward on 
the Antietam. 

But Dick, on the north, did not know that it was as 
yet only cannon fire, and not the charge of troops to 
the south and west. In truth, he knew little of his 
own part of the battle. Once he was knocked down, 
but it was only the wind from a cannon ball, and when 
he sprang to his feet and drew a few long breaths he 
was as well as ever. 

From muttered talk around him, talk that he could 
hear under the thunder of the battle, he learned that 
Sumner, who had come with the great reinforcement, 
was now leading the battle, with Hooker wounded and 
Mansfield dying. 

Sumner, as brave and daring as any, had gathered 
twenty thousand men, and they were advancing in 
splendid order over the wreck of the dead and the dy- 
ing, apparently an irresistible force. 

Jackson, standing at the edge of a wood, saw the 


217 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


magnificent advance, and while the officers around him 
despaired, he did not think of awaiting the Northern 
attack, but prepared instead for an attack of his own. 
There was word that McLaws and the Harper’s Ferry 
men had come. Jackson galloped to meet them, formed 
them quickly with his own, and then the Southern 
drums rolled out the charge. The weary veterans, 
gathering themselves anew for another burst of 
strength, fell with all their might on the Northern 
flank. 

Dick felt the force of that charge. Men seemed to 
be driven in upon him. He was hurled down, how 
he knew not, but he sprang up again, and then he saw 
that their advance was stopped. Long lines of bay- 
onets advanced upon them, and a terrible artillery fire 
crashed through and through their ranks. Two or 
three thousand men in blue fell in a moment or so. 
Fortune in an instant had made a terrible change of 
front. 

Dick shouted aloud in despair as the brigades stead- 
ily gave back. The great Union batteries were firing 
over their heads again, but even they could not arrest 
the Southern advance. Their regiments were coming 
now across the shorn cornfield. Dick saw the gal- 
loping horses drawing their batteries up closer and 
around the flanks. And the rebel yell of victory which 
he had heard too often was now swelling from thou- 
sands of throats, as the fierce sons of the South rushed 
upon their foe. 

But the North refused to abandon the battle here. 
These were splendid troops, so tenacious and so much 


218 


ANTIETAM 


bent upon victory that they scarcely needed leaders. 
Sedgwick, another of their gallant generals, fell and 
was carried off the field, wounded severely. Richard- 
son, yet another, was killed a little later, but heavy re- 
inforcements arrived, and the Southerners were driven 
back in their turn. 

These were picked troops who met here, veterans 
almost all of them, and neither would yield. The su- 
perior weight and range of the Northern guns gave 
them an advantage in artillery, and it was used to the 
utmost. Dick did not see how men could live under 
such a horrible fire, but there were the gray lines re- 
plying, and wherever they yielded, yielding but little. 

Noon came and then one o’clock. They had been 
fighting since dawn, and a combat so impetuous and 
terrible could not be maintained forever, particularly 
when the awful demon of war was eating up men so 
fast. Many of the regiments on either side had lost 
more than half their number and would lose more. 
They Were human beings, and even the unwounded be- 
gan to collapse from mere physical exhaustion. Some 
dropped to the ground from sheer inability to stand, 
and as they lay there, they heard to the south and west 
the rolling thunder that told of Burnside’s belated ad- 
vance upon the Antietam. 

Down where Lee stood watching, the battle blazed 
up with extraordinary rapidity. The men who had 
been held in leash so long by McClellan were anxious 
to get at the foe. Burnside’s brigades charged directly 
for one of the stone bridges, and Lee, watching from 
his bowlder, hurried the Southern troops forward to 


219 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


meet them. Again the Northern artillery proved its 
worth. The great batteries sent a hurricane of death 
over the heads of the men in blue and toward the town 
of Sharpsburg. Despite all the valor of the Southern 
veterans, the heavy masses of the Union men forced 
their way across the bridge to the peninsula. Lee’s 
batteries and infantry regiments could not hold them. 

It seemed now that Lee’s own force was to be de- 
stroyed and that victory was won, but fortune had in 
store yet another of those dazzling recoveries for the 
South. At the very moment when Lee seemed over- 
whelmed, A. P. Hill, as valiant and vigorous as the 
other Hill, arrived with the last of the Harper’s Ferry 
veterans, having marched seventeen miles, almost on a 
dead run. They crossed the Potomac at a ford below 
the mouth of the Antietam, then crossed the Antietam 
on the lowest bridge back into the peninsula, and with- 
out waiting for orders rushed upon the Northern flank. 

The attack was so sudden and fierce that Burnside’s 
entire division reeled back. Here, as in the north, the 
face of the battle had been changed in an instant. Not 
only could Colonel Winchester mourn over those lost 
two days, but he could mourn over every lost half hour 
in them. Had Hill come a half hour later Lee’s whole 
center would have been swept away. 

Lee and his great lieutenants, Jackson and Long- 
street, were still confident. Despite the disparity in 
numbers they had beaten back every attack. 

A. P. Hill was a man who corresponded in fire and 
impetuosity to Hooker. The number of his veterans 
was not so great, but their rush was so fierce, and they 


220 


ANTIETAM 


struck at such a critical time that the Northern bri- 
gades were unable to hold the ground they had gained. 
More troops from the dying battle on the north came 
to Lee’s aid, and every attempt of McClellan to take 
Sharpsburg failed. 

Dick, fighting with his comrades on the north, knew 
little of what was passing on the peninsula in the south, 
but he became conscious after a while that the appal- 
ling fury of the battle around him was diminishing. 
He had not seen such a desperate hand-to-hand battle 
at either Shiloh or the Second Manassas, and they were 
terrible enough. But he felt as the Confederates them- 
selves had felt, that the Southern army was fighting 
for existence. 

But as the day waned, Dick believed that they would 
never be able to crush Jackson. The Union troops al- 
ways returned to the attack, but the men in gray never 
failed to meet it, and actual physical exhaustion over- 
whelmed the combatants. Pennington went down, and 
Dick dragged him to his feet, fearing that he was 
wounded mortally, but found that his comrade had 
merely dropped through weakness. 

The long day of heat and strife neared its close. 
Neither Northern tenacity nor Southern fire could win, 
and the sun began to droop over the field piled so 
thickly with bodies. As the twilight crept up the bat- 
tle sank in all parts of the peninsula. McClellan, who 
had lost those two most precious days, and who had 
finally failed to make use of all his numbers at the same 
time, now, great in preparation, as usual, made ready 
for the emergency of the morrow. 


221 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


All the powerful and Improved artillery which Mc- 
Clellan had in such abundance was brought up. The 
mathematical minds and the workshops of the North 
bore full fruit upon this sanguinary field of Antietam. 
The shattered divisions of Hooker, with which Dick 
and his comrades lay, were sheltered behind a great 
line of artillery. No less than thirty rifled guns of the 
latest and finest make were massed in one battery to 
command the road by which the South might attack. 

To the south the Northern artillery was equally 
strong, and beyond the Antietam also it was massed in 
battery after battery to protect its men. 

But the coming twilight found both sides too ex- 
hausted to move. The sun was setting upon the fiercest 
single day's fighting ever seen in America. Nearly 
twenty-five thousand dead or wounded lay upon the 
field. More than one fourth of the Southern army was 
killed or wounded, yet it was in Lee's mind to attack 
on the morrow. 

After night had come the weary Southern generals 
— those left alive — reported to Lee as he sat on his 
horse in the road. The shadows gathered on his face, 
as they told of their awful losses, and of the long list 
of high officers killed or wounded. Jackson was 
among the last, and he was gloomy. The man who 
had always insisted upon battle did not insist upon it 
now. Hood reported that his Texans, who had fought 
so valiantly for the Dunkard church, were almost de- 
stroyed. 

The scene in the darkness with the awful battlefield 
around them was one which not even the greatest of 


222 


ANTIETAM 


painters could have reproduced. When the last gen- 
eral had told his tale of slaughter and destruction, they 
sat for a while in silence. They realized the smallness 
of their army, and the immense extent of their losses. 
The light wind that had sprung up swept over the dead 
faces of thousands of the bravest men in the Southern 
army. They had held their ground, but on the mor- 
row McClellan could bring into line three to one and 
an artillery far superior alike in quality, weight and 
numbers to theirs. 

The strange, intense silence lasted. Every eye was 
upon Lee. When the generals were making their re- 
ports he had shown more emotion than they had ever 
seen on his face before. Now he was quiet, but he 
drew his lips close together, his eyes shone with blue 
fire, and rising in his stirrups he said : 

“We will not cross the Potomac to-night, gentle- 
men. ,, 

Then while they still waited in silence, he said : 

“Go to your commands! Reform and strengthen 
your lines. Collect all your stragglers. Bring up 
every man who is in the rear. If McClellan wants a 
battle again in the morning, he shall have it. Now 
go!” 

Not a general said a word in objection, in fact, they 
did not speak at all, but rode slowly away, every one 
to his command. Yet they were, without exception, 
against the decision of their great leader. 

Even Stonewall Jackson did not want a second bat- 
tle. He had shown through the doubtful conflict a 
most extraordinary calmness. While the combat in 


223 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


the north, where he commanded, was at its height, he 
had sat on Little Sorrel, now happily restored to him, 
eating from time to time a peach that he took from 
his pocket. Nothing had escaped his observation; he 
watched every movement, and noticed every rise and 
fall in the tide of success. His silence now indicated 
that he concurred with the others in his belief that 
the remains of the Confederate army should withdraw 
across the Potomac, but his manner indicated complete 
acquiescence in the decision of his leader. 

But in the north of the peninsula the remnants of 
either side had scarce a thought to bestow upon victory 
or defeat. It was a question that did not concern them 
for the present, so utter was their exhaustion. A3 
night came and the battle ceased they dropped where 
they were and sank into sleep or a stupor that was 
deeper than sleep. 

But Dick this time did neither. His nervous system 
had been strained so severely that it was impossible 
for him to keep still. He had found that all of his 
friends had received wounds, although they were too 
slight to put them out of action. But the Winchester 
regiment had suffered terribly again. It did not have 
a hundred men left fit for service, and even at that it 
had got off better than some others. In one of the 
Virginia regiments under Longstreet only fourteen 
men had been left unhurt. 

Dick stood beside his colonel — Warner and Pen- 
nington were lying in a stupor — and he was appalled. 
The battle had been fought within a narrow area, and 
the tremendous destruction was visible in the moon- 


224 


ANTIETAM 


light, heaped up everywhere. Colonel Winchester was 
as much shaken as he, and the two, the man and the 
boy, walked toward the picket line, drawn by a sort 
of hideous fascination, as they looked upon the area 
of conflict. 

The dead lay in windrows between the two armies 
which were waiting to fight on the dawn. Dick and 
the colonel walked toward the field where the corn 
had been waving high that morning, and where it was 
now mown by cannon and rifles to the last stalk. In 
the edge of the wood the boy paused and grasping the 
man suddenly by the arm pulled him back. 

“Look! Look!” he exclaimed in a sharp whisper. 
“The Confederate skirmishers! The woods are full 
of them ! They are making ready for a night attack !” 

Both he and Colonel Winchester sprang back be- 
hind a big tree, sheltering themselves from a possible 
shot. But no sound came, not even that of men creep- 
ing forward through the undergrowth. All they heard 
was the moaning of the wind through the foliage. 
They waited, and then the two looked at each other. 
The true reason for the extraordinary silence had oc- 
curred to both at the same instant, and they stepped 
from the shelter of the tree. 

Awed and appalled, the man and the boy gazed at 
the silent forms which lay row on row in the woods 
and in the shorn cornfield. It seemed as if they slept, 
but Dick knew that all were dead. He and Colonel 
Winchester gazed again at each other and shuddering 
turned away lest they disturb the sleep of the dead. 

When they returned to a position behind the guns 


225 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


they heard others coming in with equally terrible tales. 
A sunken lane that ran between the hostile lines was 
filled to the brim with dead. Boys, yet in their teens, 
with nerves completely shattered for the time, chat- 
tered hysterically of what they had seen. The Antie- 
tam was still running red. Both Lee and Stonewall 
Jackson had been killed and the whole Confederate 
army would be taken in the morning. Some said, on 
the other hand, that the Southerners still had a hun- 
dred thousand men, and that McClellan would certain- 
ly be beaten the next day, if he did not retreat in time. 

None of the talk, either of victory or defeat, made 
any impression upon Dick. His senses were too much 
dulled by all through which he had gone. Words no 
longer meant anything. Although the night was warm 
he began to shiver, as if he were seized with a chill. 

“Lie down, Dick,” said Colonel Winchester, who 
noticed him. “I don’t think you can stand it any 
longer. Here, under this tree will do.” 

Dick threw himself down and Colonel Winchester, 
finding a blanket, spread it over him. Then the boy 
closed his eyes, and, for a while, phase after phase of 
the terrible conflict passed before him. He could see 
the white wall of the Dunkard church, the Bloody 
Lane, and most ghastly of all, those dead men in rows 
lying on their arms, like regiments asleep, but his 
nerves grew quiet at last, and after midnight he slept. 

Dawn came and found the two armies ready. Dick 
and the sad remnant of the Winchester regiment rose 
to their feet. Although food had been prepared for 
them very few in all these brigades had touched a bite 


226 


ANTXETAM 


the night before, sinking into sleep or stupor before 
it could be brought to them. But now they ate hun- 
grily while they watched for their foes, the skirmishers 
of either army already being massed in front to be 
ready for any movement by the other. 

As on the morning before, a mist arose from the 
Potomac and the Antietam. The sun, bright and hot, 
soon dispersed it. But there was no movement by 
either army. Dick did not hear the sound of a single 
shot. Warner and Pennington, recovered from their 
stupor, stood beside him gazing southward toward the 
rocks and ridges, where the Confederate army lay. 

“I’m thinking,” said Warner, “that they're just as 
much exhausted as we are. We're waiting for an at^ 
tack, and they’re waiting for the same. The odds are 
at least ninety per cent in favor of my theory. Their 
losses are something awful, and I don't think they can 
do anything against us. Look how our batteries are 
massed for them ” 

Dick was watching through his glasses, and even 
with their aid he could see no movement within the 
Southern lines. Hours passed and still neither army 
stirred. McClellan counted his tremendous losses, and 
he, too, preferred to await attack rather than offer it. 
His old obsession that his enemy was double his real 
strength seized him, and he was not willing to risk his 
army in a second rush upon Lee. 

While Dick and his comrades were waiting through 
the long morning hours, Lee and Jackson and his other 
lieutenants were deciding whether or not they should 
make an attack of their own. But when they studied 


227 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


with' their glasses the Northern lines and the great bat- 
teries, they decided that it would be better not to try it. 

When noon came and still no shot had been fired* 
Colonel Winchester shook his head. 

“We might yet destroy the Southern army,” he said 
to Dick, “but I’m convinced that General McClellan 
will not move it.” 

The hot afternoon passed, and then the night came 
with the sound of rumbling wheels and marching men. 
Dick surmised that Lee was leaving the peninsula, and, 
crossing the Potomac in to Virginia, and that therefore 
tactical victory would rest with the Northern side. The 
noises continued all night long, but McClellan made 
no advance, nor did he do so the next day, while the 
whole Confederate army was crossing the Potomac, 
until nearly night. 

But the Winchester regiment and several more of 
the same skeleton character, pushing forward a little 
on the morning of that day, found that the last Con- 
federate soldier was gone from Sharpsburg. Colonel 
Winchester and other officers were eager for the Army 
of the Potomac to attack the Army of Northern Vir- 
ginia, while it dragged itself across the wide and dan- 
gerous ford. 

But McClellan delayed again, and it was sunset when 
Dick saw the first sign of action. A strong division 
with cannon crossed the river and attacked the batter- 
ies which were covering the Southern rearguard. Four 
guns and prisoners were taken, but when Lee heard 
of it he sent back Jackson, who beat off all pursuit. 

Dick and his comrades did not see this last fight, 


228 


ANTIETAM 


which was the dying echo of Antietam. They felt that 
they had defeated the enemy’s purpose, but they did 
not rejoice over any victory. The sword of Antietam 
had turned back Lee and Jackson for a time and per- 
haps had saved the Union, but Dick was gloomy and 
depressed that so little had been won when they seemed 
to hold so much in the hollow of their hands. 

This feeling spread through the whole army, and 
the privates, even, talked of it openly. Nobody could 
forget those precious two days lost before the battle. 
Orders No. 191 had put all the cards in their hands, 
but the commander had not played them. 

“I feel that we’ve really failed,” said Warner, as 
they sat beside a camp fire. “The Southerners cer- 
tainly fought like demons, but we ought to have been 
there long before Jackson came, and we ought to have 
whipped them, even after Jackson did come.” 

“But we didn’t,” said Pennington, “and so we’ve got 
the job to do all over again. You know, George, 
we’re bound to win.” 

“Of course, Frank; but while we’re doing it the 
country is being ripped to pieces. I’ll never quit mourn- 
ing over that lost chance at Antietam.” 

“At any rate we came off better than at the Second 
Manassas,” said Dick. “What’s ahead of us now?” 

“I don’t know,” replied Warner. “I saw Shepard 
yesterday, and he says that the Southerners are recu- 
perating in Virginia. We need restoratives ourselves, 
and I don’t suppose we’ll have any important move- 
ments along this line for a while.” 

“But there’ll be big fighting somewhere,” said Dick. 


229 


CHAPTER XI 

A FAMILY AFFAIR 

T WO days after the battle of Antietam, Dick: 
went with Colonel Winchester to Washington 
on official duty. His nerves, shaken so severe- 
ly by that awful battle, were not yet fully restored and 
he was glad of the little respite, and change of scene. 
The sights of the city and the talk of men were a re- 
storative to him. 

The capital was undoubtedly gay. The deep de- 
pression and fear that had hung over it a few weeks 
ago were gone. Men had believed after the Second 
Manassas that Lee might take Washington and this 
fear was not decreased when he passed into Maryland 
on what seemed to be an invasion. Many had begun 
to believe that he was invincible, that every North- 
ern commander whoever he might be, would be beaten 
by him, but Antietam, although there were bitter com- 
plaints that Lee might have been destroyed instead 
of merely being checked, had changed a sky of steel 
into a sky of blue. 

Washington was not only gay, it was brilliant. Life 


230 


A FAMILY AFFAIR 


flowed fast and it was astonishingly vivid. A restless 
society, always seeking something new flitted from 
house to house. Dick, young and impressionable, 
would have been glad to share a little in it, but his 
time was too short. He went once with Colonel Win- 
chester to the theatre, and the boy who had thrice seen 
a hundred and fifty thousand men in deadly action 
hung breathless over the mimic struggles of a few men 
and women on a painted stage. 

The second day after his arrival he received a letter 
from his mother that had been awaiting him there. 
It had come by the way of Louisville through the 
Northern lines, and it was long and full of news. 
Pendleton, she said, was a sad town in these days. 
All of the older boys and young men had gone away 
to the armies, and many of them had been killed al- 
ready, or had died in hospitals. Here she gave names 
and Dick’s heart grew heavy, because in this fatal list 
were old friends of his. 

.It was not alone the boys and young men who had 
gone, wrote Mrs. Mason, but the middle-aged men, too. 
Dr. Russell had kept the Pendleton Academy open, 
but he had no pupil over sixteen years of age. There 
were no trustees, because they had all gone to the war. 
Senator Culver had been killed in the fighting in Ten- 
nessee, but she heard that Colonel Kenton was alive 
and well and with Bragg’s army. 

The affairs of the Union, she continued, were not 
going well in Tennessee and Kentucky. The terrible 
Confederate cavalryman Forrest had suddenly raided 
Murfreesborough in Tennessee, where Union regi- 


231 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


mcnts were stationed, and had destroyed or captured 
them all. Throughout the west the Southerners were 
raising their heads again. General Bragg, it was said, 
was advancing with a strong army, and was already 
farther north than the army of General Buell, which 
was in Tennessee. It was said that Louisville, one 
of the largest and richest of the border cities, would 
surely fall into the hands of the South. 

Dick read the letter with changing and strong emo- 
tions. Amid the terrible struggles in the east, the 
west was almost blotted out of his mind. The Second 
Manassas and Antietam had great power to absorb at- 
tention wholly upon themselves. He had wholly for- 
gotten for the time about Pendleton, the people whom 
he knew, and even his mother. Now they returned 
with increased strength. His memory was flooded 
with recollections of the little town, every house and 
face of which he knew. 

And so the Confederates were coming north again 
with a great army. Shiloh had been far from crush- 
ing them in the west. The letter had been written be- 
fore the Second Manassas, and that and Lee’s great 
fight against odds at Antietam would certainly arouse 
in them the wish for like achievements. He inferred 
that since the armies in the east were exhausted, the 
great field for action would be for a while, in the west, 
and he was seized with an intense longing for that 
region which was his own. 

It was not coincidence, but the need for men that 
made Dick’s wish come true almost at once. A few 
hours after he received his letter Colonel Winchester 


232 


A FAMILY AFFAIR 


found him sitting in the lobby of the hotel in which 
Dick had twice talked with the contractor. But the 
boy was alone this time, and as Colonel Winchester 
sat down beside him he said : 

“Dick, the capital has received alarming news from 
Kentucky. Buoyed up by their successes in the east 
the Confederacy is going to make an effort to secure 
that state. Bragg with a powerful force is already 
on his way toward Louisville, and we fear that he has 
slipped away from Buell.” 

“So Fve heard. I found here a letter from my 
mother, and she told me all the reports from that 
section.” 

“And is Mrs. Mason well? She has not been 
troubled by guerillas, or in any other way ?” 

“Not at all. Mother’s health is always good, and 
she has not been molested.” 

“Dick, it’s possible that we may see Kentucky again 
soon.” 

“Can that be true, and how is it so, sir?” 

“The administration is greatly alarmed about Ken- 
tucky and the west. This movement of Bragg’s army 
is formidable, and it would be a great blow for us if 
he took Louisville. Dispatches have been sent east 
for help. My regiment and several others that really 
belong in the west have been asked for, and we are 
to start in three days. Dick, do you know how many 
men of the Winchester regiment are left? We shall 
be able to start with only one hundred and five men, 
and when we attacked at Donelson we were a thousand 
strong.” 


233 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 

“And the end of the war, sir, seems* as far off as 
ever.’' 

“So it does, Dick, but we’ll go, and we’ll do our 
best. Starting from Washington we can reach Louis- 
ville in two days by train. Bragg, no matter what 
progress he may make across the state, cannot be 
there then. If any big battle is to be fought we’re 
likely to be in it.” 

The scanty remainder of the regiment was brought 
to Washington and two days later they were in Louis- 
ville, which they found full of alarm. The famous 
Southern partisan leader, John Morgan, had been 
roaming everywhere over the state, capturing towns, 
taking prisoners and throwing all the Union communi- 
cations into confusion by means of false dispatches. 

People told with mingled amusement and apprehen- 
sion of Morgan’s telegrapher, Ellsworth, who cut the 
wires, attached his own instrument, and replied to the 
Union messages and sent answers as his general 
pleased. It was said that Bragg was already approach- 
ing Munfordville where there was a Northern fort 
and garrison. And it was said that Buell on another 
line was endeavoring to march past Bragg and get 
between him and Louisville. 

But Dick found that the western states across the 
Ohio were responding as usual. Hardy volunteers 
from the prairies and plains were pouring into Louis- 
ville. While Dick waited there the news came that 
Bragg had captured the entire Northern garrison of 
four thousand men at Munfordville, the crossing of 
Green River, and was continuing his steady advance. 


234 


A FAMILY, AFFAIR 


But there was yet hope that the rapid march of 
Buell and the gathering force at Louisville would cause 
Bragg to turn aside. 

At last the welcome news came. Bragg had sud- 
denly turned to the east, and then Buell arrived in 
Louisville. With his own force, the army already 
gathered there and a division sent by Grant from his 
station at Corinth, in Mississippi, he was at the head 
of a hundred thousand men, and Bragg could not mus- 
ter more than half as many. 

So rapid had been the passage of events that Dick 
found himself a member of Buell's reorganized army, 
and ready to march, only thirteen days after the sun 
set on the bloody field of Antietam, seven hundred 
miles away. Bragg, they said, was at Lexington, in 
the heart of the state, and the Union army was in 
motion to punish him for his temerity in venturing out 
of the far south. 

Dick felt a great elation as he rode once more over 
the soil of his native state. He beheld again many of 
the officers whom he had seen at Donelson, and also he 
spoke to General Buell, who although as taciturn and 
somber as ever, remembered him. 

Warner and Pennington were by his side, the 
colonel rode before, and the Winchester regiment 
marched behind. Volunteers from Kentucky and 
other states had raised it to about three hundred men, 
and the new lads listened with amazement, while the 
unbearded veterans told them of Shiloh, the Second 
Manassas and Antietam. 

“Good country, this of yours, Dick,” said Warner, 
235 


THE SWORD OF, ANTIETAM 


as they rode through the rich lands east of Louisville. 
“ Worth saving. I’m glad the doctor ordered me west 
for my health.” 

“He didn’t order you west for your health,” said 
Pennington. “He ordered you west to get killed for 
your country.” 

“Well, at any rate, I’m here, and as I said, this 
looks like a land worth saving.” 

“It’s still finer when you get eastward into the Blue- 
grass,” said Dick, “but it isn’t showing at its best. I 
never before saw the ground looking so burnt and 
parched. They say it’s the dryest summer known 
since the country was settled eighty or ninety years 
ago.” 

Dick hoped that their line of march would take 
them near Pendleton, and as it soon dropped south- 
ward he saw that his hope had come true. They 
would pass within twenty miles of his mother’s home, 
and at Dick’s urgent and repeated request, Colonel 
Winchester strained a point and allowed him to go. 
He was permitted to select a horse of unusual power 
and speed, and he departed just before sundown. 

“Remember that you’re to rejoin us to-morrow,” 
said Colonel Winchester. “Beware of guerillas. I 
hope you’ll find your mother well.” 

“I feel sure of it, and I shall tell her how very kind 
and helpful you’ve been to me, sir.” 

“Thank you, Dick.” 

Dick, in his haste to be off did not notice that the 
colonel’s voice quivered and that his face flushed as he 
uttered the emphatic “thank you.” A few minutes 

236 


A FAMILY AFFAIR 


later he was riding swiftly southward over a road that 
he knew well. His start was made at six o'clock and 
he was sure that by ten o'clock he would be in Pendle- 
ton. 

The road was deserted. This was a well-peopled 
country, and he saw many houses, but nearly always 
the doors and shutters of the windows were closed. 
The men were away, and the women and children were 
shutting out the bands that robbed in the name of either 
army. 

The night came down, and Dick still sped southward 
with no one appearing to stop him. He did not know 
just where the Southern army lay, but he did not be- 
lieve that he would come in contact with any of its 
flankers. His horse was so good and true, that earlier 
than he had hoped, he was approaching Pendleton. 
The moon was up now, and every foot of the ground 
was familiar. He crossed brooks in which he and 
Harry Kenton and other boys of his age had waded 
—but he had never seen them so low before — and 
he marked the tree in which he had shot his first 
squirrel. 

It had not been so many months since he had been 
in Pendleton, and yet it seemed years and years. Three 
great battles in which seventy or eighty thousand men 
had fallen were enough to make anybody older. 

Dick paused on the crest of a little hill and looked 
toward the place where his mother’s house stood. He 
had come just in this way in the winter, and he 
looked forward to another meeting as happy. The 
moonlight was very clear now and he saw no smoke 


237 


THE SWORD OF. ANTIETAM 


rising from the chimneys, but this was summer, and 
of course they would not have a fire burning at such 
an hour. 

He rode on a little further and paused again at 
the crest of another hill. His view of Pendleton here 
was still better. He could see more roofs, and walls, 
but he noticed that no smoke rose from any house. 
Pendleton lay very still in its hollow. On the far side 
he saw the white walls of Colonel Kenton’s house shin- 
ing in the moonlight. Something leaped in his brain. 
He seemed to have been looking upon such white walls 
only yesterday, white walls that stood out in a fiery 
haze, white walls that he could never forget though 
he lived to be a hundred. 

Then he remembered. The white walls were those 
of the Dunkard church at Antietam, around which the 
blue and the gray had piled their bodies in masses. 
The vast battlefield ranged past him like a moving 
panorama, and then he was merely looking at Pendle- 
ton lying there below, so still. 

Dick was sensitive and his affections were strong. 
He loved his mother with a remarkable devotion, and 
his friends Were for all time. Highly imaginative, he 
felt a powerful stirring of the heart, at his second re- 
turn to Pendleton since his departure for the war. 
Yet he was chilled somewhat by the strange silence 
hanging over the little town that he loved so well. It 
was night, it was true, but not even a dog barked 
at his coming, and there was not the faintest trail of 
smoke across the sky. A brilliant moon shone, and 
white stars unnumbered glittered and danced, yet 

238 


A FAMILY AFFAIR 


they showed no movement of man in the town be- 
low. 

He shook off the feeling, believing that it was mere- 
ly a sensitiveness born of time and place, and rode 
straight for his mother’s house. Then he dismounted, 
tied his horse to one of the pines, and ran up the walk 
to the front door, where he knocked softly at first, and 
then more loudly. 

No answer came and Dick’s heart sank within him 
like a plummet in a pool. He went to the edge of the 
walk, gathered up some gravel and threw it against a 
window in his mother’s room on the second floor. 
That would arouse her, because he knew that she slept 
lightly in these times, when her son was off to the 
wars. But the window was not raised, and he could 
hear no sound of movement in the room. 

Alarmed, he went back to the front door, and he 
noticed that while the door was locked the keyhole 
was empty. Then his mother was gone away. The 
sign was almost infallible. Had any one been at home 
the key would have been on the inside. 

His heart grew lighter. There had been no violence. 
No roving band had come there to plunder. He 
whistled and shouted through the keyhole, although 
he did not want anyone who might possibly be passing 
in the road to hear him, as this town was almost wholly 
Southern in its sympathies. 

There was still no answer, and leading his horse be- 
hind one of the pine trees on the lawn, where it would 
not be observed, he went to the rear of the house, and 
taking a stick pried open a kitchen window. He had 


239 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


learned this trick when he was a young boy, and climb- 
ing lightly inside he closed the window behind him 
and fastened the catch. 

He knew of course every hall and room of the house, 
but the moment he entered it he felt that it was de- 
serted. The air was close and heavy, showing that no 
fresh breeze had blown through it for days. It was 
impossible that his mother or the faithful colored wom- 
an could have lived there so long a time with closed 
doors and shuttered windows. 

When he passed into the main part of his home, 
and touched a door or chair, a fine dust grated slight- 
ly under his fingers. Here was confirmation, if fur- 
ther confirmation was needed. Dust on chairs and 
tables and sofas in the house in which his mother was 
present. Impossible! Such a thing could not occur 
with her there. It was not the white dust of the road 
or fields, but the black dust that gathers in closed 
chambers. 

He went up to his mother's room, and, opening one 
of the shutters a few inches, let in a little light. It 
was in perfect order. Everything was in its place. 
Upon the dresser was a little vase containing some 
shrivelled flowers. The water in the vase had dried 
up days ago, and the flowers had dried up with it. 

In this room and in all the others everything was 
arranged with order and method, as if one were going 
away for a long time. Dick drew a chair near the 
window, that he had opened slightly, and sat down. 
Much of his fear for his mother disappeared. It was 
obvious that she and her faithful attendant, Juliana, 


240 


A FAMILY AFFAIR 


had gone, probably to be out of the track of the armies 
or to escape plundering bands like Skelly’s. 

He wondered where she had gone, whether north- 
ward or southward. There were many places that 
would gladly receive her. Nearly all the people in 
this part of the state were more or less related, and 
with them the tie of kinship was strong. It was prob- 
able that she would go north, or east. She might have 
gone to Lexington, or Winchester, or Richmond, or 
even in the hills to Somerset. 

Well, he could not solve it. He was deeply disap- 
pointed because he had not found her there, but he was 
relieved from his first fear that the guerillas had come. 
He closed and fastened the window again, and then 
walked all through the house once more. His eyes 
had now grown so used to the darkness that he could 
see everything dimly. He went into his own room. 
A picture of himself that used to hang on the wall now 
stood on the dresser. He knew very well why, and 
he knew, too, that his mother often passed hours in 
that room. 

Below stairs everything was neatness and in order. 
He went into the parlor, of which he had stood in so 
much awe, when he was a little child. The floor was 
covered with an imported carpet, mingled brown and 
red. A great Bible lay upon a small marble-topped 
table in the center of the room. Two larger tables 
stood against the wall. Upon them lay volumes of 
the English classics, and a cluster of wax flowers under 
a glass cover, that had seemed wonderful to Dick in 
his childhood. 


241 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


But the room awed him no more, and he turned at 
once to the great squares of light that faced each other 
from wall to wall. 

A famous portrait painter had arisen at Lexington 
when the canebrake was scarcely yet cleared away from 
the heart of Kentucky. His work was astonishing 
to have come out of a country yet a wilderness, and a 
century later he is ranked among the great painters. 
But it is said that the best work he ever did is the 
pair of portraits that face each other in the Mason 
home, and the other pair, the exact duplicates that 
face each other in the same manner in the Kenton 
house. 

Dick opened a shutter entirely, and the light of the 
white moon, white like marble, streamed in. The sud- 
den inpouring illuminated the room so vividly that 
Dick’s heart missed a beat. It seemed, for a minute, 
that the two men in the portraits were stepping from 
the wall. Then his heart beat steadily again and the 
color returned to his face. They had always been 
there, those two portraits. Men had never lived more 
intensely than they, and the artist, at the instant his 
genius was burning brightest, had caught them in the 
moment of extraordinary concentration. Their souls 
had looked through their eyes and his own soul look- 
ing through his had met theirs. 

Dick gazed at one and then at the other. There was 
his great grandfather, Paul Cotter, a man of vision and 
inspiration, the greatest scholar the west had ever 
produced, and there facing him was his comrade of a 
long life-time, Henry Ware, the famous borderer, after- 

242 


A FAMILY AFFAIR 


ward the great governor of the state. They had been 
painted in hunting suits of deerskin, with the fringed 
borders and beaded moccasins, and raccoon skin caps. 

These were men, Dick’s great grandfather and 
Harry’s. An immense pride that he was the great- 
grandson of one of them suddenly swelled up in his 
bosom, and he was proud, too, that the descendants of 
the borderers, and of the earlier borderers in the east, 
should show the same spirit and stamina. No one 
could look upon the fields of Shiloh, and Manassas 
and Antietam and say that any braver men ever lived. 

He drew his chair into the middle of the room and 
sat and looked at them a long time. His steady gaz- 
ing and his own imaginative brain, keyed to the point 
of excitement, brought back into the portraits that 
singular quality of intense life. Had they moved he 
would not have been surprised, and the eyes certainly 
looked down at him in full and ample recognition. 

What did they say? He gazed straight into the 
eyes of one and then straight into the eyes of the other, 
and over and over again. But the expression there 
was Delphic. He must choose for himself, as they 
had chosen for themselves, and remembering that he 
was lingering, when he should not linger, he closed 
and fastened the window, slipped out at the kitchen 
window and returned to his horse. 

He remounted in the road and rode a few paces 
nearer to Pendleton, which still lay silent in the white 
moonlight. He had no doubt now that many of the 
people had fled like his mother. Most of the houses 
must be closed and shuttered like hers. That was why 


243 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


the town was so silent. He would have been glad to 
see Dr. Russell and old Judge Kendrick and others 
again, but it would have been risky to go into the 
center of the place, and it would have been a breach, 
too, of the faith that Colonel Winchester had put in 
him. 

He crushed the wish and turned away. Then he 
saw the white walls of Colonel Kenton’s house shining 
upon a hill among the pines beyond the town. He was 
quite sure that it would be deserted, and there was no 
harm in passing it. He knew it as well as his own 
home. He and Harry had played in every part of it, 
and it was, in truth, a second home to him. 

He rode slowly along the road which led to the 
quiet house. Colonel Kenton had all the instincts s6 
strong in the Kentuckians and Virginians of his type. 
A portion of his wealth had been devoted to decoration 
and beauty. The white, sanded road led upward 
through a great park, splendid with oak and beech and 
maple, and elms of great size. Nearer the house he 
came to the cedars and clipped pines, like those sur- 
rounding his mother’s own home. 

He opened the iron gate that led to the house, and 
tied his horse inside. Here was the same desolation 
and silence that he had beheld at his own home. The 
grass on the lawn, although withered and dry from the 
intense drought that had prevailed in Kentucky that 
summer, was long and showed signs of neglect. The 
great stone pillars of the portico, from the shelter of 
which Harry and his father and their friends had 
fought Skelly and his mountaineers, were stained, and 


244 


A FAMILY AFFAIR 


around their bases were dirty from the sand and earth 
blown against them. The lawn and even the portico 
were littered with autumn leaves. 

Dick felt the chill settling down on him again. War, 
not war with armies, but war in its results, had swept 
over his uncle’s home as truly as it had swept over 
his mother’s. There was no sign of a human being. 
Doubtless the colored servants had fled to the Union 
armies, and to the freedom which they as yet knew so 
little how to use. He felt a sudden access of anger 
against them, because they had deserted a master so 
kind and just, forgetting, for the moment that he was 
fighting to free them from that very master. 

All the windows were dark, but he walked upon the 
portico and the dry autumn leaves rustled under his 
feet. He would have turned away, but he noticed 
that the front door stood ajar six or eight inches. 
The fact amazed him. If a servant was about, he 
would not leave it open, and if robbers were in the 
house, they would close it in order not to attract at- 
tention. It was a great door of massive and magni- 
ficent oak, highly polished, with heavy bands of glitter- 
ing bronze running across it. But it was so lightly 
poised on its hinges, that, despite its great weight, a 
child could have swung it back and forth with his 
little finger. Henry Ware, who built the house after 
his term as governor was over, was always proud of 
this door. 

Dick ran his hand along one of the polished bronze 
bars as he had often done when he was a boy, enjoying 
the cool touch of the metal. Then he put his thumb 


245 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


against the edge of the door, and pushed it a little 
further open. Something was wrong here, and he 
meant to see what it was. He had no scruples about 
entering. He did not consider himself in the least an 
intruder. This was his uncle’s house, and his uncle 
and his cousin were far away. 

The door made no sound as it swung back, and 
soundless, too, was Dick as he stepped within. It was 
dark in the big hall, but as he stood there, listening, 
he became conscious of a light. It proceeded from one 
of the rooms opening into the hall on the right, and a 
door nearly closed only allowed a narrow band of it 
to fall upon the hall floor. 

Dick, believing now that a robber had indeed come, 
drew a pistol from his pocket, stepped lightly across 
the hall and looked in at the door. 

He checked a cry, and it was his first thought to 
go away as quietly as he had come. He had seen a 
man in the uniform of a Confederate colonel, sitting in 
a chair, and staring out at one of the little side win- 
dows which Dick could not see from the front, and 
which was now open. It was his own uncle, Colonel 
George Kenton, C. S. A., his gold braided cap on the 
window sill, and his sword in its scabbard lying across 
his knees. 

But Dick changed his mind. His uncle was a 
colonel on one side, and he was a lieutenant on the 
other, and from one point of view it was almost high 
treason for them to meet there and talk quietly to- 
gether, but from another it was the most natural thing 
in the world, commanded alike by duty and affection. 

246 


A FAMILY AFFAIR 

He pushed open the door a little further and stepped 
inside. 

“Uncle George,” he said. 

Colonel Kenton sprang to his feet, and his sword 
clattered upon the floor. 

“Good God !” he cried. “You, Dick! Here! To- 
night !” 

“Yes, Uncle George, it’s no other.” 

“And I suppose you have Yankees without to take 

jf 

me. 

“Those are hard words, sir, and you don’t mean 
them. I’m all alone, just as you were. I galloped 
south, sir, to see my mother, whom I found gone, 
where, I don’t know, and then I couldn’t resist the 
temptation to come by here and see your house and 
Harry’s, which, as you know, sir, has been almost a 
home to me, too.” 

“Thank God you came, Dick,” said the colonel put- 
ting his arms around Dick’s shoulders, and giving 
him an affectionate hug. “You were right. I did not 
mean what I said. There is only one other in the 
world whom I’d rather see than you. Dick, I didn’t 
know whether you were dead or alive, until I saw your 
face there in the doorway.” 

It was obvious to Dick that his uncle’s emotions 
were deeply stirred. He felt the strong hands upon 
his shoulders trembling, but the veteran soldier soon 
steadied his nerves, and asked Dick to sit down in a 
chair which he drew close beside his own at the win- 
dow. 

“I thank God again that the notion took you to 


247 


THE SWORD OF. ANTIETAM 


come by the house," he said. “It's pleasant and cool 
here at the window, isn't it, Dick, boy ?" 

Dick knew that he was thinking nothing about the 
window and the pleasant coolness of the night. He 
knew equally well the question that was trembling on 
his lips but which he could not muster the courage to 
ask. But he had one of his own to ask first. 

“My mother?" he asked. “Do you know where 
she has gone ?" 

“Yes, Dick, I came here in secret, but I've seen two 
men, Judge Kendrick and Dr. Russell. The armies 
are passing so close to this place, and the guerillas 
from the mountains have become so troublesome, that 
she has gone to Danville to stay a while with her rela- 
tives. Nearly everybody else has gone, too. That's 
why the town is so silent. There were not many left 
anyway, except old people and children. But, Dick, 
I have ridden as far as you have to-night, and I came 
to ask a question which I thought Judge Kendrick or 
Dr. Russell might answer — news of those who leave 
a town often comes back to it — but neither of them 
could tell me what I wanted to hear. Dick, I have not 
heard a word of Harry since spring. His army has 
fought since then two great battles and many smaller 
ones ! It was for this, to get some word of him, that 
I risked everything in leaving our army to come to 
Pendleton !" 

He turned upon Dick a face distorted with pain and 
anxiety, and the boy quickly said : 

“Uncle George, I have every reason to believe that 
Harry is alive and well." 


248 


A FAMILY AFFAIR 


“What do you know ? What have you heard about 
him?” 

“I have not merely heard. I have seen him and 
talked with him. It was after the Second Manassas, 
when we were both with burial parties, and met on the 
field. I was at Antietam, and he, of course, was there, 
too, as he is with Stonewall Jackson. I did not see 
him in that battle, but I learned from a prisoner who 
knew him that he had escaped unwounded, and had 
gone with Lee’s army into Virginia.” 

“I thank God once more, Dick, that you were moved 
to come by my house. To know that both Harry and 
you are alive and well is joy enough for one man.” 

“But it is likely, sir, that we’ll soon meet in battle,” 
said Dick. 

“So it would seem.” 

And that was all that either said about his army. 
There was no attempt to obtain information by direct 
or indirect methods. This was a family meeting. 

“You have a horse, of course,” said Colonel Kenton. 

“Yes, sir. He is on the lawn, tied to your fence. 
His hoofs may now be in a flower bed.” 

“It doesn’t matter, Dick. People are not thinking 
much of flower beds nowadays. My own horse is fur- 
ther down the lawn between the pines, and as he is an 
impatient beast it is probable that he has already dug 
up a square yard or two of turf with his hoofs. How 
did you get in, Dick?” 

“You forgot about the front door, sir, and left it 
open six or seven inches. I thought some plunderer 
was witiv.n and entered, to find you.” 


249 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


“I must have been watched over to-night when for- 
getfulness was rewarded so well. Dick, we’ve found 
out what we came for and neither should linger here. 
Do you need anything ?” 

“Nothing at all, sir.” 

“Then we’ll go.” 

Colonel Kenton carefully closed and fastened the 
window and door again and the two mounted their 
horses, which they led into the road. 

“Dick,” said the colonel, “you and I are on opposing 
sides, but we can never be enemies.” 

Then, after a strong handclasp, they rode away by 
different roads, each riding with a lighter heart. 


CHAPTER XII 


THROUGH THE BLUEGRASS 

D ICK’S horse had had a good rest, and he was 
fighting for his head before they were clear of 
the outskirts of Pendleton. When the road 
emerged once more into the deep woods the boy gave 
him the rein. It was well past midnight now, and 
he wished to reach the army before dawn. 

Soon the great horse was galloping, and Dick felt 
exhilaration as the cool air of early October rushed 
past. The heat in both east and west had been so 
long and intense, that year, that the coming of au- 
tumn was full of tonic. Yet the uncommon dryness, 
the least rainy summer and autumn in two genera- 
tions, still prevailed. The hoofs of Dick’s horse left 
a cloud of dust behind him. The leaves of the trees 
were falling already, rustling dryly as they fell. 
Brooks that were old friends of his and that he had 
never known to go dry before were merely chains 
of yellow pools in a shallow bed. 

He watered his horse at one or two of the creeks 
that still flowed in good volume, and then went on 


251 


THE SWORD OF. ANTIETAM 


again, sometimes at a gallop. He passed but one horse- 
man, a farmer who evidently had taken an unusually 
early start for a mill, as a sack of corn lay across his 
saddle behind him. Dick nodded but the farmer stared 
open-mouthed at the youth in the blue uniform who 
flew past him. 

Dick never looked back and by dawn he was with 
the army. He found Colonel Winchester taking 
breakfast under the thin shade of an oak, and joined 
him. 

“What did you find, Dick?” asked the colonel, striv- 
ing to hide the note of anxiety in his voice. 

“I found all right at the house, but I did not see 
mother.” 

“What had become of her?” 

“I learned from a friend that in order to be out of 
the path of the army or of prowling bands she had 
gone to relatives of ours in Danville. Then I came 
away.” 

“She did well,” said Colonel Winchester. “The 
rebels are concentrating about Lexington, but the bat- 
tle, I think, will take place far south of that city.” 

Before the day was old they heard news that 
changed their opinion for the time at least. 'A scout 
brought news that a division of the Confederate army 
was much nearer than Lexington; in fact, that it was 
at Frankfort, the capital of the state. And the news 
was heightened in interest by the statement that the 
division was there to assist in the inauguration of a 
Confederate government of the state, so little of 
which the Confederate army held. 


252 


THROUGH THE BLUEGRASS 


Colonel Winchester at once applied to General Buell 
for permission for a few officers like himself, natives 
of Kentucky and familiar with the region, to ride 
forward and see what the enemy was really doing. 
Dick was present at the interview and it was char- 
acteristic. 

“If you leave, what of your regiment, Colonel Win- 
chester?” said General Buell. 

“I shall certainly rejoin it in time for battle.” 

“Suppose the enemy should prevent you?” 

“He cannot do so.” 

“I remember you at Shiloh. You did good work 
there.” 

“Thank you, sir.” 

“And this lad, Lieutenant Mason, he has also done 
well. But he is young.” 

“I can vouch for him, sir.” 

“Then take twenty of your bravest and most intel- 
ligent men and ride toward Frankfort. It may be 
that we shall have to take a part in this inaugura-; 
tion, which I hear is scheduled for to-morrow.” 

“It may be so, sir,” said Colonel Winchester, re- 
turning General Buell’s grim smile. Then he and. 
Dick saluted and withdrew. 

But it did not take the colonel long to make his' 
preparations. Among his twenty men all were na- ( 
tives of Kentucky except Warner, Pennington and 
Sergeant Whitley. Two were from Frankfort it-j 
sel f , and they were confident that they could approach 
through the hills with comparative security, the little’ 
capital nestling in its little valley. 


253 


THE SWORD OE ANTIETAM 

They rode rapidly and by nightfall drew near to 
the rough Benson Hills, which suddenly shooting up 
in a beautiful rolling country, hem in the capital. Al- 
though it was now the third day of October the little 
party marked anew the extreme dryness and the 
shrunken condition of everything. It was all the more 
remarkable as no region in the world is better watered 
than Kentucky, with many great rivers, more small 
ones, and innumerable creeks and brooks. There are 
few points in the state where a man can be more than 
a mile from running water. 

The dryness impressed Dick. They had dust here, 
as they had had it in Virginia, but there it was 
trampled up by great armies. Here it was raised 
by their own little party, and as the October winds 
swept across the dry fields it filled their eyes with 
particles. Yet it was one of the finest regions of the 
world, underlaid with vitalizing limestone, a land where 
the grass grows thick and long and does not die even 
in winter. 

“If one were superstitious,” said Dick, “he could 
think it was a punishment sent upon us all for fight- 
ing so much, and for killing so many men about ques- 
tions that lots of us don’t understand, and that at 
least could have been settled in some other way.” 

“It’s easy enough to imagine it so,” said War- 
ner in his precise way, “but after all, despite the rea- 
sons against it, here we are fighting and killing one 
another with a persistence that has never been sur- 
passed. It’s a perfectly simple question in mathe- 
matics. Let x equal the anger of the South, let y 


254 


THROUGH THE BLUEGRASS 


equal the anger of the North, let io equal the per- 1 
centage of reason, ioo, of course, being the whole, 
then you have x + y + io equalling ioo. The anger 
of the two sections is consequently x + y, equalling 
ioo - io, or 90. When anger constitutes 90 per cent., 
what chance has reason, which is only 10 per cent., 
or one-ninth of anger?” 

“No chance at all,” replied Dick. “That has al- 
ready been proved without the aid of algebra. Here 
is a man in a cornfield signaling to us. I wonder 
what he wants?” 

As Dick spoke, Colonel Winchester, who had al- 
ready noticed the man, gave an order to stop. The 
stranger, bent and knotted by hard work on the farm, 
hurried toward them. He leaned against the fence 
a moment, gasping for breath, and then said: 

“You're Union men, ain’t you? It’s no disguise?” 

“Yes,” replied Colonel Winchester, “we’re Union 
men, and it’s no disguise that we’re wearing, Malachi 
White. I’ve seen you several times in Frankfort, sell- 
ing hay.” 

The farmer, who had climbed upon the fence and 
who was sitting on the top rail, hands on his knees, 
stared at him open-mouthed. 

“You’ve got my name right. Malachi White it is,” 
he said, “suah enough, but I don’t know yours. ’Pears 
to me, however, that they’s somethin’ familiar about 
you. Mebbe it’s the way you throw back your shoul- 
ders an’ look a fellow squah in the eyes.” 

Colonel Winchester smiled. No man is insensible 
to a compliment which is obviously spontaneous. 


255 


THE SWORD OE ANTIETAM 


“I spent a night once at your house, Mr. White,” 
he said. “I was going to Frankfort on horseback. 
I was overtaken at dusk by a storm and I reached 
your place just in time. I remember that I slept on 
a mighty soft feather bed, and ate a splendid breakfast 
in the morning.” 

Malachi White was not insensible to compliments 
either. He smiled, and the smile which merely showed 
his middle front teeth at first, gradually broadened 
until it showed all of them. Then it rippled and 
stretched in little waves, until it stopped somewhere 
near his ears. Dick regarded him with delight. It 
was the broadest and finest smile that he had seen 
in many a long month. 

“Now I know you,” said Malachi White, looking 
intently at the colonel. “I ain’t as strong on faces as 
some people, though I reckon I’m right strong on ’em, 
too, but I’m pow’ful strong on recollectin’ hear’in’, 
that is, the voice and the trick of it. It was fo’ yea’s 
ago when you stopped at my house. You had a curi- 
ous trick of pronouncin’ r’s when they wasn’t no r’s. 
You’d say door, an’ hour, when ev’body knowed it 
was doah, an’ houah, but I don’t hold it ag’in you fo’ 
not knowin’ how to pronounce them wo’ds. Yoh name 
is Ahthuh Winchestuh.” 

“As right as right can be,” said Colonel Winches- 
ter, reaching over and giving him a hearty hand. “I’m 
a colonel in the Union army now, and these are my 
officers and men. What was it you wanted to tell 
us?” 

“Not to ride on fuhthah. It ain’t mo’ than fifteen 


THROUGH THE BLUEGRASS 


miles to Frankfort. The place is plum full of the 
Johnnies. I seed 'em thah myself. Ki’by Smith, an' 
a sma’t gen’ral he is, too, is thah, an' so’s Bragg, who 
I don’t know much ’bout. They’s as thick as black 
be’ies in a patch, an’ they’s all gettin ready fo’ a 
gran’ ma’ch an’ display to-mo’ow when they sweah 
in the new Southe’n gove’nuh, Mistah Hawes. 
They’ve got out scouts, too, colonel, an’ if you go on 
you’ll run right squah into ’em an’ be took, which I 
allow you don’t want to happen, nohow.” 

“No, Malachi, I don’t, nor do any of us, but we’re 
going on and we don’t mean to be taken. Most of 
the men know this country well. Two of them, in 
fact, were born in Frankfort.” 

“Then mebbe you kin look out fo’ yo’selves, bein’ 
as you are Kentuckians. I’m mighty strong fo’ the 
Union myself, but a lot of them officers that came 
down from the no’th ’pear to tu’n into pow’ful fools 
when they git away from home, knowin’ nothin’ ’bout 
the country, an’ not willin’ to lea’n. Always walkin’ 
into traps. I guess they’ve nevah missed a single 
trap the rebels have planted. Sometimes I’ve been so 
mad ’bout it that I’ve felt like quittin’ bein’ a Yank 
an’ tu’nin’ to a Johnny. But somehow I’ve nevah been 
able to make up my mind to go ag’in my principles. 
Is Gen’ral Grant leadin’ you?” 

“No, General Buell.” 

“I’m so’y of that. Gen’ral Buell, f’om all I heah, 
is a good fightah, but slow. Liable to git thar, an’ 
hit like all ta’nation, when it’s a little mite too late. 
He’s one of ouah own Kentuckians, an’ I won’t say 


257 


THE SWORD OF. ANTIETAM 


anything ag’in him; not a wo’d, colonel, don’t think 
that, but I’ve been pow’ful took with this fellow 
Grant. I ain’t any sojah, myself, but I like the tales 
I heah ’bout him. When a fellow hits him he hits 
back ha’dah, then the fellow comes back with anothah 
ha’dah still, an’ then Grant up an’ hits him a wallop 
that you heah a mile, an’ so on an’ so on.” 

“ You’re right, Malachi. I was with him at Don- 
elson and Shiloh and that’s the way he did.” 

reckon it’s the right way. Is it true, colonel, 
that he taps the ba’el?” 

“Taps the barrel? What do you mean, Malachi?” 

White put his hands hollowed out like a scoop to 
his mouth and turned up his face. 

“I see,” said Colonel Winchester, “and I’m glad to 
say no, Malachi. If he takes anything he takes wa- 
ter just like the rest of us.” 

“Pow’ful glad to heah it, but it ain’t easy to get 
too much good watah this yeah. Nevah knowed such 
a dry season befoah, an’ I was fifty-two yeahs old, 
three weeks an’ one day ago yestuhday.” 

“Thank you, Malachi, for your warning. We’ll 
be doubly careful, because of it, and I hope after this 
war is over to share your fine hospitality once more.” 

“You’ll sho’ly be welcome an’ ev’y man an’ boy 
with you will be welcome, too. Fuhthah on, ’bout 
foah hund’ed yahds, you’ll come to a path leadin’ into 
the woods. You take that path, colonel. It’ll be 
sundown soon, an’ you follow it th’ough the night.” 

The two men shook hands again, and then the 
soldiers rode on at a brisk trot. Malachi White sat 


258 


THROUGH THE BLUEGRASS 


on the fence, looking at them from under the brim 
of his old straw hat, until they came to the path 
that he had indicated and disappeared in the woods. 
Then he sighed and walked back slowly to his house 
in the cornfield. Malachi White had no education, 
but he had much judgment and he was a philosopher. 

But Dick and the others rode on through the for- 
est, penetrating into the high and rough hills which 
were sparsely inhabited. The nights, as it was now 
October, were cool, despite the heat and dust of the 
day, and they rode in a grateful silence. It was 
more than an hour after dark when Powell, one of 
the Frankforters, spoke: 

“We can hit the old town by midnight easy enough,” 
he said. “Unless they’ve stretched pretty wide lines 
of pickets I can lead you, sir, within four hundred 
yards of Frankfort, where you can stay under cover 
yourself and look right down into it. I guess by this 
good moonlight I could point out old Bragg himself, 
if he should be up and walking around the streets.” 

“That suits us, Powell,” said Colonel Winchester. 
“You and May lead the way.” 

May was the other Frankforter and they took the 
task eagerly. They were about to look down upon 
home after an absence of more than a year, a year 
that was more than a normal ten. They were both 
young, not over twenty, and after a while they turned 
out of the path and led into the deep woods. 

“It’s open forest through here, no underbrush, 
colonel,” said Powell, “and it makes easy riding. Be- 
sides, about a mile on there’s a creek running down 


259 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


to the Kentucky that will have deep water in it, no 
matter how dry the season has been. Tom May and 
I have swum in it many a time, and I reckon our 
horses need water, colonel.” 

“So they do, and so do we. We’ll stop a bit at this 
creek of yours, Powell.” 

The creek was all that the two Frankfort lads had 
claimed for it. It was two feet deep, clear, cold and 
swift, shadowed by great primeval trees. Men and 
horses drank eagerly, and at last Colonel Winchester, 
feeling that there was neither danger nor the need of 
hurry, permitted them to undress and take a quick bath, 
which was a heavenly relief and stimulant, allowing 
them to get clear of the dust and dirt of the day. 

“It’s a beauty of a creek,” said Powell to Dick. 
“About a half mile further down the stream is a tre- 
mendous tree on which is cut with a penknife, ‘Dan’l 
Boone killed a bar here, June 26, 1781/ I found it 
myself, and I cut away enough of the bark growth 
with a penknife for it to show clearly. I imagine the 
great Daniel and Simon Kenton and Harrod and the 
rest killed lots of bears in these hills.” 

“I’d go and see that inscription in the morning,” 
said Dick, “if I didn’t have a bit of war on my 
hands.” 

“Maybe you’ll have a chance later on. But I’m feel- 
ing bully after this cold bath. Dick, I came into the 
creek weighing two hundred and twenty-five pounds, 
one hundred and fifty pounds of human being and 
seventy-five pounds of dust and dirt. I’m back to 
one hundred and fifty now. Besides, I was fifty years 


260 


THROUGH THE BLUEGRASS 


old when I entered the stream, and I’ve returned to 
twenty.” 

“That just about describes me, too, but the colonel 
is whistling for us to come. Rush your jacket on and 
jump for your horse.” 

They had stayed about a half-hour at the creek, and 
about two o’clock in the morning Powell and May 
led them through a dense wood to the edge of a high 
hill. 

“There’s Frankfort below you,” said May in a voice 
that trembled. 

The night was brilliant, almost like day, and they 
saw the little city clustered along the banks of the 
Kentucky which flowed, a dark ribbon of blue. Their 
powerful glasses brought out everything distinctly. 
They saw the old state house, its trees, and in the 
open spaces, tents standing by the dozens and scores. 
It was the division of Kirby Smith that occupied the 
town, and Bragg himself had made a triumphant 
entry. Dick wondered which house sheltered him. It 
was undoubtedly that of some prominent citizen, proud 
of the honor. 

“Isn’t it the snuggest and sweetest little place you 
ever saw ?” said May. “Lend me your glasses a min- 
ute, please, Dick.” 

Dick handed them to him, and May took a long look. 
Dick noticed that the glasses remained directed toward 
a house among some trees near the river. 

“You’re looking at your home, are you not?” he 
asked. 

“I surely am. It’s that cottage among the oaks. 

261 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


It’s bigger than it looks from here. Front porch and 
back porch, too. You go from the back porch straight 
down to the river. I’ve swum across the Kentucky 
there at night many and many a time. My father and 
mother are sure to be there now, staying inside with 
the doors closed, because they’re red hot for the Union. 
Farther up the street, the low red brick house with the 
iron fence around the yard is Jim Powell’s home. You 
don’t mind letting Jim have a look through the glasses, 
do you?” 

“Of course not.” 

The glasses were handed in turn to Powell, who, as 
May had done, took a long, long look. He made no 
comment, when he gave the glasses back to Dick, 
merely saying: “Thank you.” But Dick knew that 
Powell was deeply moved. 

“It may be, lads,” said Colonel Winchester, “that 
you will be able to enter your homes by the front doors 
in a day or two. Evidently the Southerners intend 
to make it a big day to-morrow when they inaugu- 
rate Hawes, their governor.” 

“A governor who’s a governor only when hie is 
surrounded by an army, won’t be much of a governor,” 
said Pennington. “This state refused to secede, and 
I guess that stands.” 

“Beyond a doubt it does,” said Colonel Winches- 
ter, “but they’ve made great preparations, neverthe- 
less. There are Confederate flags on the Capitol and 
the buildings back of it, and I see scaffolding for 
seats outside. Are there other places from which we 
can get good looks, lads?” 


262 


THROUGH THE BLUEGRASS 


“Plenty of them,” May and Powell responded to- 
gether, and they led them from hill to hill, all covered 
with dense forest. Several times they saw Southern 
sentinels on the slopes near the edge of the woods, 
but May and Powell knew the ground so thoroughly 
that they were always able to keep the little troop 
under cover without interfering with their own scout- 
ing operations. 

Buell had given final instructions to the colonel to 
come back with all the information possible, and, led 
by his capable guides, the colonel used his opportuni- 
ties to the utmost. He made a half circle about Frank- 
fort, going to the river, and then back again. With 
the aid of the glasses and the brilliancy of the night 
he was able to see that the division of Kirby Smith 
was not strong enough to hold the town under any 
circumstances, if the main Union army under Buell 
came up, and the colonel was resolved that it should 
come. 

It was a singular coincidence that the Southerners 
were making a military occupation of Frankfort with 
a Union army only a day’s march away. The colonel 
found a certain grim irony in it as he took his last 
look and turned away to join Buell. 

A half mile into the forest and they heard the crash- 
ing of hoofs in the brushwood. Colonel Winchester 
drew up his little troop abruptly as a band of men in 
gray emerged into an open space. 

“Confederate cavalry!” exclaimed Dick. 

“Yes,” said the colonel. 

But the gray troopers were not much more numer- 
263 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


ous than the blue. Evidently they were a scouting 
party, too, and for a few minutes they stared at each 
other across a space of a couple of hundred yards or 
so. Both parties fired a few random rifle shots, more 
from a sense of duty than a desire to harm. Then 
they fell away, as if by mutual consent, the gray rid- 
ing toward Frankfort and the blue toward the Union 
army. 

“Was it a misfortune to meet them ?” asked Dick. 

“I don’t think so,” replied Colonel Winchester. 
“They had probably found out already that our army 
was near. Of course they had out scouts. Kirby 
Smith, I know, is an alert man, and anyway, the 
march of an army as large as ours could not be hid- 
den.” 

It was dawn again when the colonel’s little party 
reached the Union camp, and when he made his report 
the heavy columns advanced at once. But the alarm 
had already spread about at Frankfort. The morning 
there looked upon a scene even more lively than the 
one that had occurred in Buell’s camp. The scouts 
brought in the news that the Union army in great 
force was at hand. They had met some of their 
cavalry patrols in the night, on the very edge of the 
city. Resistance to the great Union force was out of 
the question, because Bragg had committed the error 
that the Union generals had been committing so often 
in the east. He had been dividing and scattering his 
forces so much that he could not now concentrate them 
and fight at the point where they were needed most. 

The division of the Southern army that occupied 

264 


THROUGH THE BLUEGRASS 


Frankfort hastily gathered up its arms and supplies 
and departed, taking with it the governor who was 
never inaugurated, and soon afterward the Union men 
marched in. Both May and Powell had the satisfac- 
tion of entering their homes by the front doors, and 
seeing the parents who did not know until then whether 
they were dead or alive. 

Dick had a few hours' leave and he walked about 
the town. He had made friends when he was there 
in the course of that memorable struggle over seces- 
sion, and he saw again all of them who had not gone 
to the war. 

Harry and his father were much present in his 
mind then, because he had recently seen Colonel Ken- 
ton, and because the year before, all three of them had 
talked together in these very places. 

But he could not dwell too much in the past. He 
was too young for it, and the bustle of war was 
too great. It was said that Bragg's forces had turned 
toward the southeast, but were still divided. It was re- 
ported that the Bishop-General, Polk, had been ordered 
to attack the Northern force in or near Frankfort, but 
the attack did not come. Colonel Winchester said 
it was because Polk recognized the superior strength 
of his enemy, and was waiting until he could co-op- 
erate with Bragg and Hardee. 

But whatever it was Dick soon found himself leav- 
ing Frankfort and marching into the heart of the 
Bluegrass. He began to have the feeling, or rather 
instinct warned him, that battle was near. Yet he did 
not fear for the Northern army as he had feared in 

265 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


Virginia and Maryland. He never felt that such men 
as Lee and Jackson were before them. He felt instead 
that the Southern commanders were doubtful and hes- 
itating. They now had there no such leaders as Al- 
bert Sidney Johnston, who fell at Shiloh when victory 
was in Southern hands and before it had time to 
slip from their grasp. 

So the army dropped slowly down eastward and 
southward through the Bluegrass. May and Pow- 
ell had obtained but a brief glimpse of their home 
town, before they were on their way again with a 
purpose which had little to do with such peaceful things 
as home. 

Dick saw with dismay that the concentric march of 
the armies was bringing them toward the very region 
into which his mother had fled for refuge. She was 
at Danville, which is in the county of Boyle, and he 
heard now that the Confederate army, or at least a 
large division of it, was gathering at a group of splen- 
did springs near a village called Perryville in the same 
county. But second thought told him that she would 
be safe yet in Danville, as he began to feel sure now 
that the meeting of the armies would be at Perryville. 

Dick’s certainty grew out of the fact that the great 
springs were about Perryville. The extraordinary 
drouth and the remarkable phenomenon of brooks dry- 
ing up in Kentucky had continued. Water, cool and 
fresh for many thousands of men, was wanted or ty- 
phoid would come. 

This need of vast quantities of water fresh and 
cool from the earth, was obvious to everybody, and 


266 


THROUGH THE BLUEGRASS 


the men marched gladly toward the springs. The 
march would serve two purposes: it would quench 
their thirst, and it would bring on the battle they 
wanted to clear Kentucky of the enemy. 

“Fine country, this of yours, Dick,” said Warner 
as they rode side by side. “I don’t think I ever saw 
dust of a higher quality. It sifts through everything, 
fills your eyes, nose and mouth and then goes down 
under your collar and gives you a neat and continu- 
ous dust bath.” 

“You mustn’t judge us by this phenomenon,” said 
Dick. “It has not happened before since the white 
man came, and it won’t happen again in a hundred 
years.” 

“You may speak with certainty of the past, Dickie, 
my lad, but I don’t think we can tell much about the 
next century. I’ll grant the fact, however, that fifty 
or a hundred thousand men marching through a dry 
country anywhere are likely to raise a lot of dust. 
Still, Dickie, my boy, I don’t mean to hurt your feel- 
ings, but if I live through this, as I mean to do, I 
intend to call it the Dusty Campaign.” 

“Call it what you like if in the end you call it 
victory.” 

“The dust doesn’t hurt me,” said Pennington. “I’ve 
seen it as dry as a bone on the plains with great clouds 
of it rolling away behind the buffalo herds. There’s 
nothing the matter with dust. Country dust is one 
of the cleanest things in the world.” 

“That’s so,” said Warner, “but it tickles and makes 
you hot. I should say that despite its cleanly qual- 

267 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


ities, of which you speak, Frank, my friend, its power 
to annoy is unsurpassed. Remember that bath we took 
in the creek the night we went to Frankfort. Did 
you ever before see such cool running water, and 
Dickie, old boy, remember how much there was of it! 
It was just as deep and cool and fine after we left it.” 

“George,” said Dick, as he wiped his dusty face, 
“if you say anything more about the creek and its cool 
water this army will lose a capable lieutenant, and it 
will lose him mighty soon. It will be necessary, too, 
to bury him very far from his home in Vermont.” 

“Keep cool, Dickie boy, and let who will be dusty. 
Brooks may fail once in a hundred years in Ken- 
tucky, but they haven’t failed in a thousand in Ver- 
mont. You need not remind me that the white man has 
been there only two or three hundred years. My infor- 
mation comes straight from a very old Indian chief 
who was the depository of tribal recollections ab- 
solutely unassailable. The streams even in midsum- 
mer come down as full and cold as ever from the 
mountains.” 

“We’ll have water and plenty of it in a day or 
two. The scouts say that the Confederate force at 
the springs is not strong enough to withstand us.” 

“But General Buell, not knowing exactly what Gen- 
eral Bragg intends with his divided force, has di- 
vided his own in order to meet him at all points.” 

“Has he done that?” exclaimed Dick aghast. Like 
other young officers he felt perfectly competent to 
criticize anybody. 

“He has, and it seems to me that when the en- 


268 


THROUGH THE BLUEGRASS 


emy divided was the time for us to unite or remain 
united. Then we could scoop him up in detail. Why, 
Dick, with an army of sixty thousand men or so, 
made of such material as ours has shown itself to be, 
we could surely beat any Southern force in Ken- 
tucky !” 

“Especially as we have no Lees and Stonewall Jack- 
sons to fight.” 

“Maybe General Buell has divided his force in or- 
der to obtain plenty of water/’ said Pennington. “We 
fellows ought to be fair to him.” 

“Perhaps you’re right,” said Warner, “and you’re 
right when you say we ought to be fair to him. I 
know it will be a great relief to General Buell to 
find that we three are supporting his management 
of this army. Shall I go and tell him, Frank?” 

“Not now, but you can a little later on. Suppose 
you wait until a day or two after the battle which we 
all believe is coming.” 

The three boys were really in high spirits. Little 
troubled them but the dryness and the dust. They had 
tasted so much of defeat and drawn battle in the east 
that they had an actual physical sense of better things 
in the west. The horizons were wider, the moun- 
tains were lower, and there was not so much en- 
veloping forest. They did not have the strangling sen- 
sation, mental only, which came from the fear that 
hostile armies would suddenly rush from the woods 
and fall upon their flank. 

Besides, there was Shiloh. After all, they had won 
Shiloh, and the coming of this very Buell who led 

269 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


them now had enabled them to win it. And Shiloh 
was the only great battle that they had yet really won. 

They camped that night in the dry fields. The 
Winchester regiment was a part of the division under 
McCook, while Buell with the rest of the army was 
some miles away. It was still warm, although Octo- 
ber was now seven days old, and Dick had never be- 
fore heard the grass and leaves rustle so dryly under 
the wind. Off in the direction of Perryville they saw 
the dim gleam of red, and they knew it came from the 
camp-fires of the Southern army. Buell had in his 
detached divisions sixty thousand men, most of them 
veterans and Dick believed that if they were brought 
together victory was absolutely sure on the morrow. 

The troops around the Winchester regiment were 
lads from Ohio, and they affiliated readily. Most of 
the new men were in these Ohio regiments, and Dick, 
Warner and Frank felt themselves ancient veterans 
who could talk to the recruits and give them good ad- 
vice. And the recruits took it in the proper spirit. 
They looked up with admiration to those who had been 
at Shiloh, and the Second Manassas and Antietam. 

Dick thought their spirit remarkable. They were 
not daunted at all by the great failures in the east. 
They did not discount the valor of the Southern 
troops, but they asked to be led against them. 

“Come over here,” said one of the Ohio boys to 
Dick. “Ahead of us and on the side there’s rough 
ground with thick woods and deep ravines. I’ll show 
you something just at the edge of the woods. Bring 
your friends with you.” 

A 


270 


THROUGH THE BLUEGRASS 


The twilight had already turned to night and Dick, 
calling Warner and Pennington, went with his new 
friend. There, flowing from under a great stone, 
shaded by a huge oak, was a tiny stream of pure cold 
water a couple of inches deep but seven or eight inches 
broad. Under the stone a beautiful basin a foot 
and a half across and about as deep had been chis- 
elled out. 

“A lot of us found it here,” said the Ohio boy, “and 
we found, too, a tin cup chained to a staple driven 
into the stone. See, it’s here still. We haven’t broken 
the chain. I suppose it belongs to some farmer close 
by. The boys brought other tin cups and we drank 
so fast that the brook itself became dry. The water 
never got any further than the pool. I suppose it’s just 
started again. Drink.” 

The boys drank deeply and gratefully. No such 
refreshing stream had ever flowed down their throats 
before. 

“Ohio,” said Dick, “you’re a lovely, dirty angel.” 

“I guess I am,” said Ohio, “ ’cause I found the 
spring. It turned me from an old man back to a boy 
again. Cold as ice, ain’t it? I can tell you why. 
This spring starts right at the North Pole, right under 
the pole itself, dives away down into the earth, comes 
under Bering Sea and then under British America, 
and then under the lakes, and then under Ohio, and 
then under a part of Kentucky, and then comes out 
here especially to oblige us, this being a dry season.” 

“I believe every word you say, Ohio,” said War- 
ner, “since your statements are proved by the quality 


271 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


of the water. I could easily demonstrate it as a math- 
ematical proposition.” 

“Don’t you pay any attention to him, Ohio,” said 
Dick. “He’s from Vermont, and he’s so full of big 
words that he’s bound to get rid of some of them.” 

“I’m not doubting you, Vermont,” said Ohio. “As 
you believe every word I said, I believe every word 
you said.” 

“There’s nothing extraordinary about them things,” 
said another Ohio boy belonging to a different brigade, 
who was sitting near. “Do you know that we swal- 
lowed a whole river coming down here? We began 
swallowing it when we crossed the Ohio, just like a 
big snake swallowing a snake not quite so big, taking 
down his head first, then keeping on swallowing him 
until the last tip of his tail disappeared inside. It 
was a good big stream when we started, water up 
to our knees, but we formed across it in a line five 
hundred men deep and then began to drink as we 
marched forward. Of course, a lot of water got past 
the first four hundred lines or so, but the five hun- 
dredth always swallowed up the last drop. 

“We marched against that stream for something like 
a hundred and fifty miles. No water ever got past 
us. We left a perfectly dry bed behind. Up in the 
northern part of the state not a drop of water came 
down the river in a month. We followed it, or at 
least a lot of us did, clean to its source in some 
hills a piece back of us. We drank it dry up to a 
place like this, only bigger, and do you know, a fel- 
low of our company named Jim Lambert was fol- 


272 


THROUGH THE BLUEGRASS 


lowing it up under the rocks, and we had to pull him 
out by the feet to keep him from being suffocated. 
That was four days ago, and we had a field tele- 
gram yesterday from a place near the Ohio, saying 
that a full head of water had come down the river 
again, three feet deep from bank to bank and run- 
ning as if there had been a cloudburst in the hills. 
Mighty glad they were to see it, too. ,, 

There was a silence, but at length a solemn youth 
sitting near said in very serious tones: 

“I’ve thought over that story very thoroughly, and 
I believe it’s a lie.” 

“Vermont,” said the first Ohio lad, “don’t you have 
faith in my friend’s narrative?” 

“I believe every word of it,” said Warner warmly. 
“Our friend here, who I see can see, despite the dim 
light, has a countenance which one could justly say in- 
dicates a doubtful and disputatious nature, wishes to 
discredit it because he has not heard of such a thing 
before. Now, I ask you, gentlemen, intelligent and 
fair-minded as I know you are, where would we be, 
where would civilization be if we assumed the atti- 
tude of our friend here. If a thing is ever seen at 
all somebody sees it first, else it would never be seen. 
Quod erat demonstrandum. You remember your 
schooldays, of course. I thank you for your applause, 
gentlemen, but I’m not through yet. We have passed 
the question of things seen, and we now come to the 
question of things done, which is perhaps more import- 
ant. It is obvious even to the doubtful or carping 
mind that if a new thing is done it is done by some- 


273 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 

body first. Others will do it afterward, but there must 
and always will be a first. 

“Nobody ever swallowed a river before, beginning 
at its mouth and swallowing it clean down to its source, 
but a division of gallant young troops from Ohio have 
done so. They are the first, and they must and always 
will be the first. Doubtless, other rivers will be swal- 
lowed later on. As the population increases, larger 
rivers will be swallowed, but the credit for initiating 
the first and greatest pure-water drinking movement 
in the history of the world will always belong to a 
brave army division from the state of Ohio.” 

A roar of applause burst forth, and Warner, stand- 
ing up, bowed gracefully with his hand upon his heart. 
Then came a dead silence, as a hand fell upon the 
Vermonter's shoulder. Warner looked around and his 
jaw fell. General McCook, who commanded this part 
of the army, was standing beside him. 

“Excuse me, sir, I — ” began Warner. 

“Never mind,” said the general. “I had come for 
a drink of water, and hearing your debate I stopped 
for a few moments behind a tree to listen. II don't 
know your name, young gentleman.” 

“Warner, sir, George Warner, first lieutenant in the 
regiment of Colonel Winchester.” 

“I merely wished to say, Lieutenant Warner, that I 
listened to your speech from the first word to the last, 
and I found it very cogent and powerful. As you say, 
things must have beginnings. If there is no first, there 
can be no second or third. I am entirely convinced 
by your argument that our army swallowed a river 


274 


THROUGH THE BLUEGRASS 


as it marched southward. In fact, I have often felt 
so thirsty that I felt as if I could have swallowed it 
myself all alone.” 

There was another roar of applause, and as a dozen 
cups filled with water were pushed at the general, he 
drank deeply and often, and then retired amid further 
applause. 

“They’ll fight well for him, to-morrow,” said Dick. 

“No doubt of it,” said Warner. 

They went into the edge of the wood and sought 
sleep and rest. But there was much merry chatter first 
among these lads, for many of whom death had already 
spread its somber wings. 


CHAPTER XIII 


PERRYVILLE 

D ICK slept very well that night. The water from 
the little spring, gushing out from under the 
rock, had refreshed him greatly. He would 
have rejoiced in another bath, such a one as they had 
luxuriated in that night before Frankfort, but it was 
a thing not be dreamed of now, and making the best 
of things as they were, he had gone to sleep among 
his comrades. 

The dryness of the ground had at least one advan- 
tage. They had not colds and rheumatism to fear, and, 
with warm earth beneath them and fresh air above, 
they slept more soundly than if they had been in their 
own beds. But while they were sleeping the wary 
Sergeant Whitley was slipping forward among the 
woods and ravines. He had received permission from 
Colonel Winchester, confirmed by a higher officer, to 
go on a scout, and he meant to use his oppor- 
tunity. He had made many a scouting trip on the 
plains, where there was less cover than here, and there 
torture and death were certain if captured, but here it 

276 


PERRYVILLE 


would only be imprisonment among men who were in 
no sense his personal enemies, and who would not ill- 
treat him. So the sergeant took plenty of chances. 

He passed the Union pickets, entered a ravine which 
led up between two hills and followed it for some dis- 
tance. In a cross ravine he found a little stream of 
water, flowing down from some high, rocky ground 
above, and, at one point, he came to a pool several 
yards across and three or four feet deep. It was cool 
and fresh, and the sergeant could not resist the temp- 
tation to slip off his clothes and dive into it once or 
twice. He slipped his clothes on again, the whole not 
consuming more than five minutes, and then went on 
much better equipped for war than he had been five 
minutes before. 

Then he descended the hills and came down into a 
valley crossed by a creek, which in ordinary times had 
plenty of water, but which was now reduced to a few 
muddy pools. The Southern pickets did not reach so 
far, and save for the two tiny streams in the hills this 
was all the water that the Northern army could reach. 
Farther down, its muddy and detached stream lay with- 
in the Confederate lines. 

Crossing the creek’s bed the sergeant ascended a 
wooded ridge, and now he proceeded with extreme 
caution. He had learned that beyond this ridge was 
another creek containing much more water than the 
first. Upon its banks at the crossing of the road stood 
the village of Perryville, and there, according to his 
best information and belief, lay the Southern army. 
But he meant to see with his own eyes and hear with 


277 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


his own ears, and thus return to McCook’s force with 
absolute certainty. 

The sergeant, as he had expected, found cover more 
plentiful than it was on the plains, but he never stalked 
an Indian camp with more caution. He knew that the 
most of the Southern scouts and skirmishers were as 
wary as the Indians that once hunted in these woods, 
and that, unless he used extreme care, he was not likely 
to get past them. 

He came at last to a point where he lay down flat 
on his stomach and wormed himself along, keeping in 
the thickest shadow of woods and bushes. The night 
was bright, and although his own body was blended 
with the ground, he could see well about him. The 
sergeant was a very patient man. Life as a lumber- 
man and then as a soldier on the plains had taught him 
to look where he was crawling. He spent a full hour 
worming himself up to the crest of that ridge and a lit- 
tle way down on the other side. In the course of the 
last fifteen minutes he passed directly between two 
alert and vigilant Southern pickets. They looked his 
way several times, but the sergeant was so much in 
harmony with the color scheme of the earth on which 
he crept, that no blame lay upon them for not seeing 
him. 

The sergeant was already hearing with his own ears. 
He heard these pickets and others talking in low voices 
of the Northern army and of their own. They knew 
that Buell’s great force was approaching from differ- 
ent points and that a battle was expected on the mor- 
row. He knew this already, but he wanted to know 

278 


PERRYVILLE 


how much of the Confederate army lay In Perryville, 
and he intended to see with his own eyes. 

Having passed the first line of pickets the sergeant 
advanced more rapidly, although he still kept well un- 
der cover. Advancing thus he reached the bed of the 
creek and hid himself against the bank, allowing his 
body to drop down in the water, in order that he might 
feel the glorious cool thrill again, and also that he 
might be hidden to the neck. His rifle and ammuni- 
tion he laid at the edge of the bank within reach. 
Situated thus comfortably, he used his excellent eyes 
with excellent results. He could see Perryville on his 
left, and also a great camp on some heights that ran 
along the creek. There were plenty of lights in this 
camp, and, despite the lateness of the hour, officers 
were passing about. 

It was obvious to the sergeant that many thousands 
of soldiers were on those heights, and now he wanted 
to hear again with his own ears. He did not dare go 
any nearer, and the water in the creek was growing 
cold to his body. But his patience was great, and still 
he waited, only his head showing above the water, and 
it hidden in the black gloom of the bank’s shadows. 

His reward came by-and-by. A number of cavalry- 
men led their horses down to the creek to drink, and 
while the horses drank and then blew the water away 
from their noses, the men talked at some length, en- 
abling the sergeant to pick up important scraps of in- 
formation. 

He learned that the heights were occupied by Har- 
dee with two divisions. It was the same Hardee, the 


279 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


famous tactician who had been one of the Southern 
generals at Shiloh. Polk was expected, but he had 
not yet come up. Bragg, too, would be there. 

The brave sergeant’s heart thumped as he listened. 
He gathered that Polk, perhaps, could not arrive before 
noon, and here was a brilliant chance to destroy a large 
part of the Southern army early in the morning. 

He waited until all the cavalrymen had gone away 
with their horses, and then he crawled cautiously out 
of the stream. His limbs were cold and stiff, but his 
enforced exercise in crawling soon brought back their 
flexibility. He passed between the pickets again, and, 
when he was safely beyond their hearing, he rose and 
stretched himself again and again. 

The sergeant greatly preferred walking to crawling. 
Primitive men might have crawled, but to do so made 
the modern man’s knees uncommonly sore. So he con- 
tinued to stretch, to inhale great draughts of air, and 
to feel proudly that he was a man who walked upright 
and not a bear or a pig creeping on four legs through 
the bushes. 

He reached his own army not long afterward, and, 
walking among the thousands of sleeping forms, 
reached the tree under which Colonel Winchester 
slept. 

“Colonel,” he said gently. 

The colonel awoke instantly and sat up. Despite the 
dusk he recognized Whitley at once. 

“Well, sergeant?” he said. 

“I’ve been clean over the ridge to the rebel camp. 
I reached the next creek and lay on the heights just 


280 


PERRYVILLE 


beyond it. IVe seen with my own eyes and IVe heard 
with my own ears They’ve only two divisions there, 
though they’re expectin’ Polk to come up in the morn- 
in’ an’ Bragg, too. Colonel, I’m a good reckoner, as 
I’ve seen lots of war, and they ain’t got more ’n fifteen 
thousand men there on the creek, while if we get all 
our divisions together we can hit ’em with nigh on to 
sixty thousand. For God’s sake, Colonel, can’t we 
do it?” 

“We ought to, and if I can do anything, we will. 
Sergeant, you’ve done a great service at a great risk, 
and all of us owe you thanks. I shall see General Mc- 
Cook at once. 

The sergeant, forgetting that he was wet to the skin, 
stretched himself in the dry grass near Dick and his 
comrades, and soon fell fast asleep, while his clothes 
dried upon him. But Colonel Winchester went to Gen- 
eral McCook’s tent and insisted upon awakening him. 
The general received him eagerly and listened with 
close attention. 

“This man Whitley is trustworthy?” he said. 

“Absolutely. He has had years of experience on 
the plains, fighting Sioux, Cheyennes and other Indi- 
ans, and he has been with me through most of the war 
so far. There is probably no more skillful scout, and 
none with a clearer head and better judgment in either 
army.” 

“Then, Colonel, we owe him thanks, and you thanks 
for letting him go. We’ll certainly bring on a battle 
to-morrow, and we ought to have all our army pres- 
ent. I shall send a messenger at once to General Buell 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


with your news. Messengers shall also go to Critten- 
den, Rousseau, and the other generals. But you recog- 
nize, of course, that General Buell is the commander- 
in-chief, and that it is for him to make the final 
arrangements.” 

“I do, sir,” said the colonel, as he saluted and re- 
tired. He went back to the point where his own lit- 
tle regiment lay. He knew every man and boy in it, 
and he had known them all in the beginning, when 
they were many times more. But few of the splendid 
regiment with which he had started south a year and 
a half before remained. He looked at Dick and War- 
ner and Pennington and the sergeant and wondered 
if they would be present to answer to the roll the next 
night, or if he himself would be there? 

The colonel cherished no illusions. He was not 
sanguine that the whole Union army would come up, 
and even if it came, and if victory should be won it 
w r ould be dark and bloody. He knew how the South- 
erners fought, and here more so than anywhere else, 
it would be brother against brother. This state was 
divided more than any other, and, however the battle 
went, kindred would meet kindred. Colonel Kenton, 
Dick’s uncle, a man whom he liked and admired, was 
undoubtedly across those ridges, and they might meet 
face to face in the coming battle. 

It was far into the morning now and the colonel did 
not sleep again. He saw the messengers leaving the 
tent of General McCook, and he knew that the com- 
mander of the division was active. Just what success 
he would have would remain for the morrow to say. 


282 


PERRYVILLE 


The colonel saw the dawn come. The dry fields and 
forests reddened with the rising sun, and then the army 
rose up from its sleep. The cooks had already pre- 
pared coffee and food. 

“Show me the enemy/’ said Pennington fiercely, 
“and as soon as I finish this cup of coffee. I’ll go over 
and give him the thrashing he needs/’ 

“He’s just across those ridges, sir, and on the banks 
of the far creek,” said Sergeant Whitley. 

“How do you know ?” 

“I made a call on him last night.” 

“You did? And what did he say?” 

“I didn’t send in my card. I just took a look at 
his front door and came away. He’s at home, waiting 
and willing to give us a fight.” 

“Well, it’s a fine day for a battle anyway. Look 
what a splendid sun in rising! And you can see the 
soft haze of fall over the hills and woods.” 

“It’s not as fine a fall as usual in Kentucky,” said 
Dick, in an apologetic tone to Warner and Penning- 
ton. “It’s been so dry that the leaves are falling too 
early, and the reds, the yellows and the browns are not 
so bright.” 

“Never mind, Dickie, boy,” said Warner consoling- 
ly. “We’ll see it in a better year, because Pennington 
and I are both coming back to spend six months with 
you when this war is over. I’ve already accepted the 
invitation. So get ready for us, Dick.” 

“It’s an understood thing now,” said Dick sincerely. 
“There go the trumpets, and they mean for us to get 
in line.” 


283 


THE SWORD OE ANTIETAM 


A large portion of the division was already on the 
way, having started at five o’clock, and the little Win- 
chester regiment was soon marching, too. The day 
was again hot. October, even, did not seem able to 
break that singular heat, and the dust was soon bil- 
lowing about them in columns, stinging and burning 
them. The sergeant the night before had taken a short 
cut through the hills, but the brigades, needing wide 
spaces, marched along the roads and through the fields. 
A portion of their own army was hidden from them 
by ridges and forest, and Dick did not know 
whether Buell with the other half of the army had 
come up. 

After a long and exhausting march they stopped, and 
the Winchester regiment and the Ohio lads concluded 
that they had been wrong after all. No battle would 
be fought that day. They were willing now, too, to 
postpone it, as they were almost exhausted by heat 
and thirst, and that stinging, burning dust was mad- 
dening. A portion of their line rested on the first creek, 
and they drank eagerly of the muddy water. Dick 
saw before him fields in which the corn stood thick and 
heavy. The fields were divided by hedges which cut 
off the view somewhat and which the sergeant said 
would furnish great ambush for sharpshooters. 

The men were now allowed to lie down, but most 
of them were still panting with the heat. The three 
boys on horseback rode with Colonel Winchester to 
the crest of a low hill, just beyond the first creek. 
From that point they clearly saw the enemy gathered 
in battle array along the second stream. Dick, with 

284 


PERRYYILLE 


his glasses, saw the batteries, and could even mark 
the sun-browned faces of the men. 

“Has General Buell come? ,, he asked Colonel Win- 
chester. 

“He has not. Not half of our army is here.” 

The answer was made with emphasis and chagrin. 
There was a report that Buell did not intend to attack 
until the following day, when he would have his num- 
bers well in hand. 

“Under the circumstances,” said the colonel, “we 
have to wait. Better get off your horses, boys, and 
hunt the shade.” 

They rode back and obeyed. It was now getting 
well along into the afternoon. Thousands of soldiers 
lay on the grass in the shadiest places they could find. 
Many were asleep. Overhead the sun burned and 
burned in a sky of absolute blazing white. 

A cannon boomed suddenly and then another. The 
artillery of the two armies watching one another had 
opened at long range, but the fire was so distant that 
it did no harm. Dick and his comrades watched the 
shells in their flight, noting the trails of white smoke 
they left behind, and then the showers of earth that 
flew up when they burst. It was rather a pleasant 
occupation to watch them. In a way it broke the mo- 
notony of a long summer day. 

They did not know that Polk, the bishop-general, 
was arriving at that moment in the Southern camp with 
five thousand men. Bragg had come, too, but he left 
the command to Polk, who outranked Hardee, and 
the three together listened to the long-range cannonade, 

285 


THE SWORD OF, ANTIETAM 


while they also examined with powerful glasses the 
Union army which was now mostly lying on the 
ground. 

Dick himself felt a strong temptation to sleep. The 
march through the heat that morning had been dusty 
and tiresome, and the warm wind that blew over him 
made his eyelids very heavy. The cannonade itself 
was conducive to slumber. The guns were fired at 
regular intervals, which created a sort of rhythm. The 
shells with their trailing white smoke ceased to in- 
terest him, and his eyelids grew heavier. It was now 
about 2 130 o’clock and as his eyes were about to 
close a sudden shout made him open them wide and 
then spring to his feet. 

‘Took out! Look out!” cried Sergeant Whitley, 
“The Johnnies are coming!” 

The Union forces in an instant were in line, rifles 
ready and eager. The gray masses were already 
charging across, the fields and hills, while their cannon 
made a sudden and rapid increase in the volume of 
fire. Their batteries were coming nearer, too, and 
the Shells hitherto harmless were now shrieking and 
hissing among their ranks, killing and wounding. 

Dick looked around him. The members of the slim 
Winchester regiment were all veterans ; but thousands 
of the Ohio lads were recruits who had never seen 
battle before. Now shell and shot were teaching them 
the terrible realities. He saw many a face grow pale, 
as his own had often grown pale, in the first minutes 
of battle, but he did not see any one flinch. 

The Northern cannon posted in the intervals and 1 


286 


PERRYVILLE 


along the edges of the woods opened with a mighty 
crash, and as the enemy came nearer the riflemen be- 
gan to send a hail of bullets. But the charge did not 
break. It was led by Buckner, taken at Donelson, but 
now exchanged, and some of the best troops of the 
South followed him. 

“Steady! Steady!” shouted Colonel Winchester. 
The ranks were so close that he and all of his staff, 
having no room for their horses, had dismounted, and 
they stood now in the front rank, encouraging the men 
to meet the charge. But the rush of the Southern 
veterans was so sudden and fierce that despite every 
effort of valor the division gave way, suffering fright- 
ful losses. 

Two of the Union generals seeking to hold their 
men were killed. Each side rushed forward reinforce- 
ments. A stream of Confederates issued from a wood 
and flung themselves upon the Union flank. Dick was 
dazed with the suddenness and ferocity with which the 
two armies had closed in mortal combat. He could see 
but little. He was half blinded by the smoke, the flash 
of rifles and cannon and the dust. Officers and men 
were falling all around him. The numbers were not 
so great as at Antietam, but it seemed to him that 
within the contracted area of Perryville the fight was 
even more fierce and deadly than it had been on that 
famous Maryland field. 

But he was conscious of one thing. They were being 
borne back. Tears of rage ran down his face. Was 
it always to be this way? Were their numbers never 
to be of any avail ? He heard some one shout for Buell, 

287 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


and he heard some one else shout in reply that he was 
far away, as he had been at Shiloh. 

It was true. The wind blowing away from him, 
Buell had not yet heard a sound from the raging bat- 
tle, which for its numbers and the time it lasted, was 
probably the fiercest ever fought on the American con- 
tinent. The larger Union force, divided by ridges and 
thick woods from the field, had not heard the fire of 
a single cannon, and did not know that two armies 
were engaged in deadly combat so near. 

Dick kept close to Colonel Winchester and Warner 
and Pennington were by his side. The sergeant was 
also near. There was no chance to give or send orders, 
and the officers, snatching up the rifles of the fallen 
soldiers, fought almost as privates. The Winchester 
regiment performed prodigies of valor on that day, 
and the Ohio lads strove desperately for every inch of 
ground. 

It seeemd to Dick once that they would hold fast, 
when he heard in front a tremendous cry of: “On, 
my boys !” As the smoke lifted a little he saw that it 
was Colonel Kenton leading his own trained and vet- 
eran regiment. Colonel Winchester and Colonel Ken- 
ton, in fact, had met face to face, but the Southern 
regiment was the more numerous and the stronger. 
Winchester’s men were gradually borne back and the 
colonel gasped to Dick : 

“Didn’t I see your uncle leading on his regiment ?” 

“Yes, it was he. It was his regiment that struck 
us, but he’s hidden now by the smoke.” 

The Southern rush did not cease. McCook’s whole 


288 


PERRYVILLE 


division, between the shallow creeks was driven back, 
sustaining frightful losses, and it would have been de- 
stroyed, but the artillery of Sheridan on the flank sud^ 
denly opened upon the Southern victors. The South- 
erners whirled and charged Sheridan, but his defense 
was so strong, and so powerful was his artillery that 
they were compelled to recoil every time with shat- 
tered ranks. 

The decimated Ohio regiments beyond the creek 
were gathering themselves anew for the battle, and so 
were the men of Colonel Winchester, now reduced to 
half their numbers again. Then a great shout arose. 
A fresh brigade had come up to their relief, and aided 
by these new men they made good the ground upon 
which they stood. 

Another shout arose, telling that Buell was coming, 
and, two hours after the combat had opened, he arrived 
with more troops. But night was now at hand, and the 
sun set over a draw like that at Antietam. Forty 
thousand men had fought a battle only about three 
hours long, and eight thousand of them lay dead or 
wounded upon the sanguinary field. One half the 
Union army never reached the field in time to fight. 

As both sides drew off in the darkness, Dick shouted 
in triumph, thinking they had won a victory. A bul- 
let fired by some retiring Southern skirmisher glanced 
along his head. There was a sudden flash of fire be- 
fore him and then darkness. His body fell on a little 
slope and rolled among some bushes. 

The close hot night came down upon the field, and 
289 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


the battle, the most sanguinary ever fought on Ken- 
tucky soil, had closed. Like so many other terrible 
struggles of the Civil War, it had been doubtful, or 
almost* so far as the fighting was concerned. The 
Northern left wing had been driven back, but the 
Northern right wing had held firm against every attack 
of the enemy. 

Pennington, when he lay panting on the ground with 
the remnant of the Winchesters, knew little about the 
result of the combat He knew that their own division 
had suffered terribly. The Ohio recruits had been cut 
almost to pieces, and the Winchester regiment had been 
reduced by half again. He was so tired that he did not 
believe he could stir for a long time. He felt no 
wound, but every bone ached from weariness, and his 
throat and mouth seemed to burn with smoke and dust. 

Pennington did not see either Dick or Warner, but 
as soon as he got a little strength into his limbs he 
would look for them. No doubt they were safe. A 
special providence always watched over those fellows. 
It was true that Warner had been wounded at the Sec- 
ond Manassas, but a hidden power had guided Dick to 
him, and he got well so fast that he was able to fight 
soon afterward at Antietam. 

Pennington lay still, and he heard all around him 
the deep breathing of men who, like himself, were so 
worn that they could scarcely move. The field in front 
of him darkened greatly, but he saw lights moving 
there, and he knew that they belonged to little parties 
from either army looking for the wounded. He began 
to wonder which side had won the battle. 


290 


PERRYVILLE 


“Ohio,” he said to one of the Ohio lads who lay 
near, “did we lick the Johnnies, or did the Johnnies 
lick us?” 

“Blessed if I know, and I don’t care much, either. 
Four fellows that I used to play with at school were 
killed right beside me. It was my first battle, and, Oh, 
I tell you, it was awful !” 

He gulped suddenly and began to cry. Pennington, 
who was no older than he, patted him soothingly on the 
shoulder. 

“I know that you were the bravest of the brave, be- 
cause I saw you,” he said. 

“I don’t know about that, but I do know that I can 
never get used to killing men and seeing them killed.” 

Pennington was surprised that Dick and Warner 
had not appeared. They would certainly rejoin their 
own regiment, and he began to feel uneasy. The last 
shot had been fired, the night was darkening fast and 
a mournful wind blew over the battlefield. But up and 
down the lines they were lighting the cooking fires. 

Pennington rose to his feet. He saw Colonel Win- 
chester, standing a little distance away, and he was 
about to ask him for leave to look for his comrades, 
when he was startled by the appearance of a woman, 
a woman of thirty-eight or nine, tall, slender, dressed 
well, and as Pennington plainly saw, very beautiful. 
But now she was dusty, her face was pale, and her eyes 
shone with a terrible anxiety. Women were often seen 
in the camps at the very verge or close of battle, say- 
ing good-bye or looking for the lost, but she was un- 
usual. 


291 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


The soldiers stood aside for her respectfully, and she 
looked about, until her gaze fell upon the colonel. Then 
she ran to him, seized him by the arm, and exclaimed : 

“Colonel Winchester ! Colonel Winchester !” 

“Good heavens, Mrs. Mason! You! How did you 
come ?” 

“I was at Danville, not so far from here. Of course 
I knew that the armies were about to meet for battle ! 
And it was only two days ago that I heard the Win- 
chester regiment had come west to join General Buell’s 
army.” 

A stalwart and powerful colored woman emerged 
from the darkness and put her arm around Mrs. Ma- 
son’s waist. 

“Don’t you get too much excited, chile,” she said 
soothingly. 

Juliana stood beside her mistress, a very tower of 
defense, glaring at the soldiers about them as if she 
would resent their curiosity. 

“I thought I would come and try to see Dick,” con- 
tinued Mrs. Mason. “My relatives sought to persuade 
me not to do it. They were right, I know, but I 
wanted to come so badly that I had to do it. We 
slipped away yesterday, Juliana and I. We stayed at 
a farmhouse last night, and this morning we rode 
through the woods. We expected to be in the camp 
this afternoon, but as we were coming to the edge of 
the forest we heard the cannon and then the rifles. 
Through three or four dreadful hours, while we shook 
there in the woods, we listened to a roar and thunder 
that I would have thought impossible.” 

292 


PERRYVILLE 


“The battle was very fierce and terrible,” said Colo- 
nel Winchester. 

“I don’t think it could have been more so. We saw 
a part of it, but only a confused and awful sweep of 
smoke and flame. And now, Colonel Winchester, 
where is my boy, Dick ?” 

Colonel Winchester’s face turned deadly pale, and 
she noticed it at once. Her own turned to the same 
pallor, but she did not shriek or faint. 

“You do not know that he is killed? she said in a 
low, distinct tone that was appalling to the other. 

“I missed him only a little while ago,” said Colonel 
Winchester, “and I’ve been looking for him. But I’m 
sure he is not dead. He can’t be !” 

“No, he can’t be ! I can’t think it !” she said, and she 
looked at the colonel appealingly. 

“If you please, sir,” said Pennington, “Lieutenant 
Warner is missing also. I think we’ll find them to- 
gether. You remember what happened at the Second 
Manassas.” 

“Yes, Frank, I do remember it, and your supposition 
may be right.” 

He asked a lantern from one of the men, and whis- 
pered to Pennington to come. But Mrs. Mason and 
Juliana had been standing at strained attention, and 
Mrs. Mason inferred at once what was about to be 
done. 

“You mean to look for him on the field,” she said. 
“We will go with you.” 

Colonel Winchester opened his lips to protest, but 
shut them again in silence. 


293 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


“It is right that you should come,” he said a moment 
later, “but you will see terrible things.” 

“I am ready.” 

She seemed all the more admirable and wonderful to 
Colonel Winchester, because she did not weep or faint. 
The deathly pallor on her face remained, but she held 
herself firmly erect beside the gigantic colored woman. 

“Come with me, Pennington,” said Colonel Win- 
chester, “and yon, too, Sergeant Whitley.” 

The two men and the boy led the way upon the field, 
and the two women came close behind. They soon 
entered upon the area of conflict. The colonel had said 
that it would be terrible, but Mrs. Mason scarcely 
dreamed of the reality. It was one vast scene of fright- 
ful destruction, of torn and trampled earth and of 
dead men lying in all directions. The black of her 
faithful servant’s face turned to an ashen gray, and she 
trembled more than her mistress. 

Colonel Winchester had a very clear idea of the line 
along which his regiment had advanced and retreated, 
and he followed it. But the lantern did not enable them 
to see far. As happened so often after the great battles 
of the Civil War, the signs began to portend rain. The 
long drouth would be broken, but whether by natural 
change or so much firing Colonel Winchester did not 
know. Despite the lateness of the season dim lightning 
was seen on the horizon. The great heat was broken 
by a cool wind that began to blow from the northwest. 

The five advanced in silence, the two men and the 
boy still leading and the two women following close 
behind. Colonel Winchester’s heart began to sink yet 


294 


PERRYVILLE 


farther. He had not felt much hope at first, and now 
he felt scarcely any at all. A few moments later, how- 
ever, the sergeant suddenly held up his hand. 

“What is it?” asked the colonel. 

“I think I hear somebody calling.” 

“Like as not. Plenty of wounded men may be call- 
ing in delirium.” 

“But, colonel, I’ve been on battlefields before, and 
this sounds like the voice of some one calling for help/* 

“Which way do you think it is ?” 

“To the left and not far off. It's a weak voice.” 

“We’ll turn and follow it. Don’t say anything to 
the others yet.” 

They curved and walked on, the colonel swinging 
his lantern from side to side, and now all of them heard 
the voice distinctly. 

“What is that?” exclaimed Mrs. Mason, speaking 
for the first time since they had come upon the field 
of conflict. 

“Some one shouting for help,” replied Colonel Win- 
chester. “One could not neglect him at such a time.” 

“No, that is so.” 

“It’s the voice of Lieutenant Warner, colonel,” 
whispered the sergeant. 

Colonel Winchester nodded. “Say nothing as yet,” 
he whispered. 

They walked a dozen steps farther and the colonel, 
swinging high the lantern, disclosed Warner sitting on 
the trunk of a tree that had been cut through by cannon 
balls. Warner, as well as they could see, was not 
wounded, but he seemed to be suffering from an over- 


295 


THE SWORD OF, ANTIETAM 


powering weakness. The colonel, the sergeant and the 
boy alike dreaded to see what lay beyond the log, but 
the two women did not know Warner or that his pres- 
ence portended anything. 

The Vermonter saw them coming, and raised his 
hand in a proper salute to his superior officer. Then 
as they came nearer, and he saw the white woman who 
came with them, he lifted his head, tried to straighten 
his uniform a little with his left hand, and said as he 
bowed : 

“I think this must be Mrs. Mason, Dick’s mother. ,, 

“It is,” said Colonel Winchester, and then they 
waited a moment or two in an awful silence. 

“I don’t rise because there is something heavy lying 
in my lap which keeps me from it,” said Warner very 
quietly, but with deep feeling. “After the Second 
Manassas, where I was badly wounded and left on the 
ground for dead, a boy named Dick Mason hunted 
over the field, found me and brought me in. I felt 
grateful about it and told him that if he happened to 
get hit in the same way I’d find him and bring him in 
as he had brought me. 

“I didn’t think the chance would come so soon. 
Curious how things happen as you don’t think they’re 
going to happen, and don’t happen as you think they’re 
going to happen, and here the whole thing comes out 
in only a few weeks. We were driven back and I 
missed Dick as the battle closed. Of course I came to 
hunt for him, and I found him. Easy, Mrs. Mason, 
don’t get excited now. Yes, you can have his head 
in your own lap, but it must be moved gently. That’s 

296 


PERRYVILLE 


where he’s hurt. Don’t tremble, ma’am. He isn’t 
going to die, not by a long shot. The bullet meant to 
kill him, but finding his head too hard, it turned away, 
and went out through his hair. He won’t have any 
scar, either, because it’s all under the thickest part of 
his hair. 

“Qf course his eyes are closed, ma’am. He hasn’t 
come around yet, but he’s coming fast. Don’t cry on 
his face, ma’am. Boys never like to have their faces 
cried on. I’d have brought him in myself, but I found 
I was too weak to carry him. It’s been too short a 
time since the Second Manassas for me to have got 
back all my strength. So I just bound up his head, 
held it in my lap, and yelled for help. Along came 
a rebel party, bearing two wounded, and they looked 
at me. ‘You’re about pumped out,’ said one of them, 
‘but we’ll take your friend in for you.’ ‘No, you 
won’t,’ I said. ‘Why not ?’ said they. ‘Because you’re 
no account Johnnies,’ I said, ‘while my wounded 
friend and I are high-toned Yanks.’ ‘I beg your par- 
don,’ said the Johnny, who was one of the most polite 
fellows I ever saw, ‘I didn’t see your uniform clearly 
by this dim light, but the parties looking for the 
wounded are mostly going in, and you’re likely to be 
left here with your friend, who needs attention. Better 
come along with us and be prisoners and give him a 
chance to get well.” 

“Now, that was white, real white, but I thanked him 
and said that as soon as General Buell heard that the 
best two soldiers in his whole army were here resting, 
he’d come with his finest ambulance for us, driving 


297 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


his horses himself. They said then they didn’t suppose 
they were needed and went on. But do you know, 
ma’am, every one of those Johnnies, as he passed poor 
old unconscious Dick with his head in my lap, took off 
his hat.” 

“It was a fine thing for them to do,” said Colonel 
Winchester, and then he whispered: “I’m glad you 
talked that way, Warner. It helps. You see, she’s 
feeling more cheerful already.” 

“Yes, and you see old Dick’s opening his eyes. Isn’t 
it strange that the first thing he should see when he 
opens them here on the battlefield should be his 
mother?” 

“A strange and happy circumstance,” said Colonel 
Winchester. 

Dick opened his eyes. 

“Mother!” he exclaimed. 

Her arms were already around him. 


CHAPTER XIV3 

SEEKING BRAGG 

T HEY took Dick to the house of his relatives, 
the Careys, in Danville, and in a few days he 
learned the sequel of that sudden and terrible 
storm of death at Perryville. Buell had gathered all 
his forces in the night, and in the morning had intended 
to attack again, but the Confederate army was gone, 
carrying with it vast stores of supplies that it had 
gathered on the way. 

The rains, too, had come. They had begun the 
morning after the battle, and they poured for days. 
In the southeast, among the mountains toward which? 
Bragg had turned the head of his army, the roads 
were quagmires. Nevertheless he had toiled on 
and was passing through Cumberland Gap. Buell 
had gone in the other direction toward the south- 
west, and then came the news that he was relieved 
of his command, and that Rosecrans would take his 
place. 

Dick felt the call of the trumpet. He knew that 
his comrades were now down there in Tennessee with 


299 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


the army under Rosecrans, and he felt that he must 
join them. His mother begged him to stay. He had 
done enough for his country. He had fought in great 
battles, and he had narrowly escaped a mortal wound. 
He should come home, and stay safely at Pendleton 
until the war was over. 

But Dick, though grieving with her, felt that he 
must go. He would stay with the army until the end, 
and he departed for Lexington, where he took the train 
for Louisville. Thence he went southward directly 
by rail to Bowling Green, where the Northern army 
was encamped, with lines stretching as far south as 
Nashville, and where he received the heartiest of greet- 
ings from his comrades. 

“I knew you’d come, ,, said Warner. “Perhaps a 
man with a mother like yours ought to stay at home, 
and again he ought to come. So there you are, and 
here you are!” 

Dick was familiar with the country about Bowling 
Green. It was a part of the state in which he had 
relatives, and he had visited it more than once. He 
also saw the camps left by Buckner’s men nearly a 
year ago, when they were marching southward to be 
taken by Grant at Donelson. Since he had come back 
to this region it seemed to him that they were always 
fighting their battles over again. Grant and Rose- 
crans had fought a terrible but victorious battle at 
Corinth in Mississippi, and now Rosecrans had come 
north while Grant remained in the further south. He 
was sorry it was not Grant who commanded on that 
line. He would have been glad to be under his com- 


300 


SEEKING BRAGG 


mand again, to feel that strong and sure hand on the 
reins once more. 

Dick stayed a while in Bowling Green, and he saw 
all his relatives in the little city. They were mostly 
on the other side, but they could not resist an ingenu- 
ous youth like Dick, and he passed some pleasant hours 
with them. For his sake they also made Warner and 
Pennington welcome, but they freely predicted a great 
disaster for the North. Bragg would come out of 
East Tennessee with his veterans, and they would give 
Rosecrans the defeat that he deserved. The boys held 
good natured arguments with them on this point, but 
all finally agreed to leave it to the decision of the war 
itself. 

The great dryness had now passed so completely 
that it seemed impossible such a thing ever could' 
have been. The rains had been heavy and almost 
continuous, and the earth soaked in water. But de- 
spite chill winds and chill rains rumors of Southern 
activity came to them, and in the last month of the 
year Rosecrans gathered his forces at Nashville in 
Tennessee. 

Dick and his comrades enjoyed a few bright days 
here. The city was crowded with an army and those 
who supply it and live by it, and it was a center of 
vivid activity. Dick had letters from his mother and 
he also heard in a roundabout way that Colonel Ken- 
ton had gone through the battle of Perryville unin- 
jured and was now with Bragg at Chattanooga. 

But the boys soon heard that despite the winter 
there was great activity in the Southern camp. Un- 


301 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 

dismayed by their loss of Kentucky, the Southern gen- 
erals meant to fight Rosecrans in Tennessee. The Con- 
federacy had not been cheered by Lee’s withdrawal at 
Antietam and Bragg’s retreat at Perryville, and meant 
to strike a heavy blow for new prestige. The whole 
Confederate army, they soon heard, had moved for- 
ward to Murfreesborough, where it was waiting, while 
Forrest and Morgan, the famous cavalry leaders, were 
off on great raids. 

It was this absence of Forrest and Morgan with the 
best of the cavalry that put it into the mind of 'Rose- 
crans to attack at once. The thousands of lads in 
the army who were celebrating Christmas received 
that night the news that they were to march in the 
morning. 

“I’ve fought three great battles this year,” said 
Warner, “and I don’t think they ought to ask any 
more of me.” 

“Be comforted,” said Dick. “We start to-morrow, 
the 26th, which leaves five days of the year, and I don’t 
think we can arrange a battle in that time. You’ll not 
have to whip Bragg before the New Year, George.” 

“Well, I’m glad of it.. You. can have too many 
battles in one year. I didn’t get rest enough after my 
wound at the Second Manassas before I had to go in 
and save our army at Antietam, and then it was but 
a little time before we fought at Perryville. That 
wasn’t as big a battle as some of the others, but Dick, 
for those mad three hours it seemed that all the demons 
of death were turned loose.” 

“It certainly looked like it, George, you stiff old 


302 


SEEKING BRAGG 


Vermonter, and I don’t forget that you came to save 
me.” 

“Shut up about that, or I’ll hit you over the head 
with the butt of my pistol. I merely paid back, though 
I only paid about half of what I was owing to you. 
The chance luckily came sooner than I had hoped. 
But, Dick, what a morning to follow Christmas.” 

A chilly rain was pouring down. A cold fog was 
rising from the Cumberland, wrapping the town in 
mists. It was certainly a dreary time in which to 
march to battle, and the young soldiers rising in the 
gloom of the dawn and starting amid such weather 
were depressed. 

“Pennington,” said Warner, “will you help me in a 
request to our Kentucky friend to join us in three 
cheers for the Sunny South, the edge of which he 
has the good fortune to inhabit? I haven’t seen the 
real sun for about a month, and I suppose that’s why 
they call it sunny, and I’m informed that this big 
river, the Cumberland, often freezes over, which I 
suppose is the reason why they call it Southern. I hear, 
too, that people often freeze to death in North Georgia, 
which is further south than this. After this bit of 
business is over I’m going to forbid winter campaigns 
in the south.” 

“It does get mighty cold,” said Dick. “You see 
we’re not really a southern people. We just lie south 
of the northern states and in Kentucky, at least, we 
have a lot of cold weather. Why, I’ve seen it twenty- 
three degrees below zero in the southern part of the 
state, and it certainly can get cold in Tennessee, too.” 


303 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


T believe I’d rather have it than this awful rain,” 
said Pennington. “I don’t seem to get used to these 
cold soakings.” 

“Good-bye, Nashville,” said Dick, turning about. 
“I don’t know when we will have to come back, and if 
we do I don’t know what will have happened before 
then. Good-bye, Nashville. I regret your roofs and 
your solid walls, and your dry tents and floors.” 

“But we’re going forth to fight. Don’t forget that, 
Dick. Remember how in Virginia we pined for battle, 
and the use of our superior numbers. Anyhow Rose- 
crans is going out to look for the enemy, but all the 
same, and between you and me, Dick, I wish it was 
Grant who was leading us. I saw a copy of the New 
York Times a while back, and some lines in it are 
haunting me. Here they are : 

“Back from the trebly crimsoned field 
Terrible woods are thunder-tost: 

Full of the wrath that will not yield, 

Full of revenge for battles lost: 

Hark to their echo as it crost 
The capital making faces wan: 

End this murderous holocaust; 

Abraham Lincoln give us a man.” 

“Sounds good,” said Dick, “and, George, you and 
Frank and I know that what we want is a man. We’ve 
lost big battles, because we didn’t have a big man, who 
could see at once and think like lightning, to lead us. 
But we’ll get him sooner or later! We’ll get him. 


304 


SEEKING BRAGG 


Did any other troops ever bear up like ours under de- 
feats and drawn battles ? Listen to ’em now !” 

Slow and deep and sung by many thousand men rose 
the rolling chorus : 

“The army is gathering from near and from far; 

The trumpet is sounding the call for the war; 

Old Rosey’s our leader, he’s gallant and strong; 

We’ll gird on our armor and be marching along.” 

“Now,” cried Warner, “all together.” And the 
thundering chorus rose : 

“Marching, we are marching along, 

Gird on the armor and be marching along; 

Old Rosey’s our leader, he’s gallant and strong; 

For God and our country we are marching along.” 

As the mighty chorus, sung by fifty thousand men, 
rose and throbbed through the cold and rain, Dick felt 
his own heart throbbing in unison. Rosecrans might 
or might not be a great general, but he certainly was 
not permitting the enemy to rest easy in winter quar- 
ters at Murfreesborough. Dick had no doubt that 
they were about to meet the foe of Perryville face to 
face again. 

The enemies were largely the same as those of other 
battles in the west. The Northern army advanced 
in three divisions toward Murfreesborough. McCook, 
whose division contained the Winchester regiment, 
was in the center, General Thomas led the right wing 


305 


THE SWORD OF, ANTIETAM 


on the Franklin road, and General Crittenden led the 
left wing. Bragg who was before them had nearly] 
the same generals as at Shiloh, Hardee, Breckinridge, 
and the others. 

Dick knew that the advance of the Northern army] 
would be seen at once. This was the country of the 
enemy. The forces of the Union held only the ground 
on which they were camped. Thousands of hostile 
eyes were watching Rosecrans, and, even if Bragg 
himself were lax, any movement by the army from 
Nashville would be reported at once to the army in 
Murfreesborough. But they had a vigilant foe, they 
knew, and they expected to encounter his pickets soon. 

“They're probably watching us now through the fog 
and rain," said Colonel Winchester to Dick as they 
left the last house of Nashville behind. “They know 
every inch of these hills and valleys." 

It was not a great distance to Murfreesborough, but 
they found the marching slow. The feet of the horses 
sank deep in the mud and the cannon and wagons 
were almost mired. But despite mud and rain and 
cold, the army pressed bravely on. They were the 
same lads and their like who had marched forward so 
hopefully to Donelson and Shiloh. Through the rain 
and the soughing of wheels in the mud rolled their 
battle songs, sung with all the spirit and fire of youth. 

Colonel Winchester and all the officers helped with' 
the cannon and wagons and soon they were covered 
with mud. The Winchester regiment was in the lead, 
and Sergeant Whitley suddenly pointing with a thick 
forefinger, said: 


30 6 


SEEKING BRAGG 


“There are the Johnnies ! Their pickets are waiting 
for us ¥’ 

Dick saw through the mist and rain a considerable 
body of men down the road, most of them on horse- 
back. He knew at once that they were Southern 
pickets, and the eager lads around him, seeing them, 
knew it, too. Not waiting for command they set up 
a shout and charged down the road. Rifles instantly 
flashed through the rain and a sharp fire met them. 
Men fell, but others pressed on with all the more zeal, 
seeing just beyond the Southern pickets the roofs of 
a little town. Cannon shot also whizzed among them, 
indicating that the Southern pickets were in strong 
force. 

But the Northern troops, full of vigor and zeal, 
swept back the pickets and charged directly upon a 
larger force in the town beyond. A short and fierce 
battle for the possession of the village ensued, but this 
was only a Southern outpost, and it was not strong 
enough to withstand the rush of the Ohio men and 
iWinchester’s regiment. Fighting at every step they 
retreated through the village and into the forest be- 
yond, leaving one of their cannon in the hands of the 
Union troops. 

“An omen of victory,” exclaimed Dick, when he saw 
the captured cannon. 

“Careful, Dick ! Careful !” said Warner. “Re- 
member that you’re not strong on omens. You’re al- 
ways seeing sure signs of success just before we go into 
a big battle.” 

“If Dick sees visions, and they’re visions of the 
307 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


right kind, then he’s right,” said Pennington. “I’d 
a good deal rather go into battle with Dick by my side 
singing a song of victory, than croaking of defeat.” 

“That’s good as a general proposition,” said War- 
ner, “but I was merely cautioning him not to be too 
enthusiastic. What kind of a country, Dick, is this 
into which we are going ?” 

“Hilly, lots of forests, particularly of cedar, and 
brooks, creeks and rivers. Murfreesborough itself is 
right on Lytle’s Creek. Bragg will meet us at the line 
of Stone River.” 

“Maybe they’ll retreat and go eastward to Chatta- 
nooga,” said Pennington. 

“I think we’d better dismiss that ‘maybe,’ ” said 
Dick. “You haven’t heard of the rebels running away 
from battles, have you?” 

“What I’ve generally seen, in the beginning at least,” 
said Warner, “is the rebels running toward us, jump- 
ing out of the woods and yelling like Indians. I have 
seldom found it a pleasant sight. I’m glad, too, Dick, 
that Stonewall Jackson isn’t here. Do you see that 
big cedar forest over there on the hillside? Suppose 
he should come rushing out of it with twenty or twen- 
ty-five thousand men.” 

“Stop,” said Pennington. “You give me the shivers, 
talking about Stonewall Jackson swooping down on us 
with an army corps, when happily he’s four or five 
hundred miles away. I’m seeing enough unfriendly 
faces as it is. Look how the people in this village are 
glaring at us. Fellows, I’ve decided after due con- 
sideration that they don’t love us here in Tennessee. 

308 


SEEKING BRAGG 

If you were to ask me I’d say that blue was not their 
favorite color.” 

“At any rate we don’t stay long. Good-bye, friends, 
good-bye,” said Warner, waving his hand toward two 
or three men who stood in the door of an old black- 
smith shop. 

“You laugh, young feller,” said a gnarled and 
knotted old man past eighty, “an’ mebbe it’s as well for 
you to laugh while you have the time to do it in. 
Mebbe you’ll never come back from Stone River, an’ 
if you do, an’ if you win everywhere, remember that 
we, too, will yet win everywhere.” 

“What do you mean by that ?” 

“All the Yankees, whether they win or not, will 
have to go back north, except them that are dead, an’ 
we’ll be here right on top of the lan’, livin’ on it, an' 
runnin’ it, same as we’ve always done.” 

“I hadn’t thought of that,” said Warner soberly. 

“There’s a power of things the young don’t think 
of,” said the ancient man. “Mebbe the South can be 
whipped, but she can’t be moved. She’ll always be 
here. People hev made a war. I don’t know who 
started it. I reckon there’s been some powerful mean 
an’ hot talk on both sides. I knowed great men that 
seed this very thing cornin’ long ago an’ tried to stop 
it. I went over in Kentucky more than once an’ 
heard Henry Clay speak. I don’t believe there was 
ever another such a talker as he was. He had sense 
an’ knowledge as well as voice. He done his best to 
smooth over this quarrel between North and South 
that others was eggin’ on all the time, but he couldn’t, 


309 


THE SWORD OE ANTIETAM 


and I reckon when Henry Clay, the greatest man God 
ever made, failed, it wasn’t worth while for anybody 
else to try. Ride on, young fellers, an’ get yourselves 
killed. You ain’t twenty, an’ I’m over eighty, but I 
guess I’ll be lookin’ at the green trees when you’re 
under the ground. Ride on in the rain an’ the cold, 
an’ I’ll go inside the shop an’ warm myself by the forge 
fire.” 

The three boys rode on in sober silence. The words 
of the ancient philosopher were soaking in with the 
rain. 

“ Suppose we don’t come back from Stone River,” 
said Pennington. 

“We take our chances, of course,” said Dick. 

“And suppose what he said about the South should 
prove true,” said Warner, thoughtfully. “One part 
of it, at least, is bound to come true. That phrase of 
his sticks in my mind: ‘Mebbe the South can be 
whipped, but she can’t be moved.’ The Southern 
states, as he says, will be here just the same after the 
war is over, no matter who wins.” 

But such thoughts as these could not endure long in 
minds so young. They passed through the village and 
soon were in the forests of red cedar. The rain ceased, 
but in its place came a thick and heavy fog. The mud 
grew deeper than ever. Progress became very slow. 
It was difficult in the great foggy veil for the regi- 
ments to keep in touch with one another, and occa- 
sional shots in front warned them that the enemy 
was active and watchful. The division barely crept 
along. 


310 


SEEKING BRAGG 


Dick and his comrades were mounted again, and 
they kept close to Colonel Winchester, who, however, 
had few orders to send. The command of the corps 
rested with General McCook, and it behooved him as 
any private could see, to exercise the utmost caution. 
They were strangers in the land and the Confederates 
were not. 

Dick had thought that morning that they would get 
into touch with heavy forces of the enemy before 
night, but the fog and the mud rendered their advance 
so slow that at sunset they went into camp in a vast 
forest of red cedar, still a good distance from Stone 
River. The fog had lifted somewhat, but the night 
was heavy, damp and dark. There was an abundance 
of fallen wood, and the veterans soon built long rows 
of fires which contributed wonderfully to their cheer- 
fulness. 

‘There's nothing like a fine fire on a cold, dark 
night,” said Sergeant Whitley, holding his hands over 
the flames. “Out on the plains when there was only 
a hundred or so of us, an’ nothin' on any side five 
hundred miles away 'xcept hostile Indians, an' a bliz- 
zard whistlin' an' roarin’, with the mercury thirty de- 
grees below zero, it was glorious to have a big fire 
lighted in a hollow or a dip an' bend over the coals, 
until the warmth went right through you.” 

“It was the power of contrast,” said Warner sagely. 
“The real comfort from the fire was fifty per cent and 
the howling of the icy gale, in which you might have 
frozen to death, but didn't, was fifty per cent more. 
That's why I'm feeling so good now, although I’d 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


say that those red cedars and their dark background 
are none too cheerful. ,, 

“I’ve got two good blankets,” said Pennington, who 
was returning from a trip further down the line, “and 
I’m going to sleep. Haven’t you fellows learned that 
all your foolish talking before a battle never changes 
the result? I can tell you this. Our three divisions 
that are marching toward Murfreesborough are in 
touch. We’ve put out swarms of scouts and they all 
tell us so. They know exactly where the enemy is, 
too, and he’s too far away to surprise us to-night. So 
it’s sleep, my boys, sleep. Sleep will recover for you 
so much strength that it will be much harder for you 
to get killed on the morrow.” 

Dick had dried himself very thoroughly before one 
of the fires, and wrapping himself in his two blankets 
he slept soundly and heavily. There was fog again 
the next morning, but they reached a little village 
called Triune and all through the day they heard the 
sounds of scattered firing. One of the scouts told 
Colonel Winchester that the whole Southern army 
would be concentrated the next day on the line of Stone 
River, but that it would be inferior to the Union army 
in numbers by ten thousand men. Bragg’s force, how- 
ever, had the advantage of experience, being composed 
almost wholly of veterans. 

It was on the afternoon of this day that Dick came 
into personal contact with General Thomas again. He 
had been sent through the cedar forest with dispatches 
to him from General McCook, and after the general 
had read them he glanced at the messenger. 


312 


SEEKING BRAGG 


“You reached General Buell safely with my letter. 
Lieutenant Mason/’ he said, “and I’m very glad to see 
you here with us again.” 

“Thank you, sir,” said Dick, feeling an immense 
pride because this man, whom he admired so much, re- 
membered him. 

“It was a difficult duty and you did it well. I 
found that you got through safely. I made inquiries 
about you and I traced you as far as Shiloh, but I 
could get no further.” 

“I was at Shiloh,” said Dick proudly. “I was cap- 
tured just before it began, but I escaped while it was 
at its height and fought until the close.” 

“And after that?” 

“My regiment was sent east, sir. I went with it 
through the Second Manassas and Antietam. Then 
we came back west to help General Buell. I was at 
Perryville and was wounded there, but I soon got 
well.” 

“Perryville was a terrible battle. It was short, 
but it is incredible with what fury the troops fought. 
We should do bet^r here.” 

Dick saw that the last sentence which was spoken in 
a low tone was not addressed to him. It was merely 
a murmured expression of the general’s own thoughts, 
and he remained silent. 

“You can go now, Lieutenant Mason,” said General 
Thomas, after a few moments, “and let us together 
wish for the best.” 

“Thank you, sir,” said Dick, highly flattered again. 
.Then he saluted and retired. 


3i3 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


He rode back somewhat slowly through the cedars, 
but he kept a wary eye. The enemy’s cavalry was 
daring, and he might be rushed by them at any time 
or be ambushed by sharpshooters on foot. His watch 
for the enemy also enabled him to examine the country 
closely. He saw many hills and hollows covered most- 
ly with forests, with the red cedar and its dark green 
boughs predominating. He also saw the flash of 
many waters, and, where the roads cut through the soil, 
a deep red clay was exposed to view. He knew that 
it would be difficult for the armies to get into line for 
battle, because of the heavy, sticky nature of the 
ground, upon which so much rain had fallen. 

He made his way safely back to the camp of his 
corps, although he saw hostile cavalry galloping in the 
valleys in the direction of Stone River, and all through 
the afternoon he heard the crackle of rifle shots in the 
same direction. The skirmishers were continually in 
touch and they were busy. 

The corps moved up a little, but Dick thought it like- 
ly that there would be no battle the next day either. 
Rosecrans could not afford to attack until his full force, 
with all its artillery, was up, and marching was slow 
and exhausting in the sea of sticky mud. 

Dick was right. The Northern army was practi- 
cally united the next day, but so great was the ex- 
haustion of the troops that Rosecrans did not deem it 
wise yet to attack his foe. He was fully aware of the 
quality of the Southern soldiers. He remembered 
how they had turned suddenly at Perryville and with 
inferior numbers had fought a draw. Now on the 


314 


SEEKING BRAGG 


defensive, and in such a deep and sticky soil, they 
would have a great advantage and his generals agreed 
with him in waiting. 

Dick spent much of this day in riding with Colonel 
.Winchester along their lines. There was some talk 
about Bragg retreating, but the boy, a veteran in 
everything but years, knew the ominous signs. Bragg 
had no notion of retreating. 

In the night that followed Colonel Winchester him- 
self and some of his young officers, accompanied by 
the brave and skillful Sergeant Whitley, scouted to- 
ward Stone River. In the darkness and with great 
care, in order to avoid any sound of splashing, they 
waded a deep creek and came out upon a plateau, roll- 
ing slightly in character, and with a deep clay soil, very 
muddy from the heavy rains. A part of the plateau 
was cleared of forest, but here and there were groves, 
chiefly of the red cedar, and thickets, some of them so 
dense that a man would have difficulty in forcing his 
way through. 

Colonel Winchester and his little group paused at 
the edge of the creek, and then dived promptly into 
a thicket. They saw further up the plateau many fires 
and the figures of men walking before them and they 
saw nearer by sentinels marching back and forth. 
They were even able to make out cannon in batteries, 
and they knew that it was not worth while to go any 
further. The Confederate army was there, and they 
would merely walk directly into its arms. 

They returned with even greater caution than they 
had come, but the next day the whole division crossed 


3i5 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 

the creek at another point, and as it cautiously felt 
its way forward it encountered another formidable 
body of Southern pickets hidden in the woods. There 
was sharp firing for a quarter of an hour, and many of 
the Ohio men fell, but the pickets were finally swept 
back, and at sunset the half circle that Rosecrans had 
intended to form for the attack upon the Southern 
army was complete. 

All the movements and delays brought them up to 
the night before the last day in the year. The Win- 
chester regiment with the Ohio division lay in a region 
of little hills and rocks, covered with forest, with which 
its officers and men were not familiar. On the other 
hand the Southern army would know every inch of it, 
and the inhabitants were ready and eager to give it 
information. 

Dick could not keep from regarding the dark for- 
ests with apprehension. He had seen the Northern 
generals lose so much through ignorance of the ground 
and uncertain movements that he feared for them 
again. He soon learned that Rosecrans himself shared 
this fear. He had come to the division and recom- 
mended its closer concentration. 

But the young Ohio troops were not afraid. They 
said that if they were attacked they would hold their 
ground long enough for the rest of the Northern army 
to beat the Southern, and McCook himself was con- 
fident. 

Meanwhile, Bragg, after delaying, had suddenly de- 
cided to make the attack himself, and throughout the 
day he had been gathering his whole army for the 

316 


SEEKING BRAGG 


spring*. All his generals, Hardee, Breckinridge, Polk, 
Cleburne and the rest were in position and the cavalry 
was led by Wheeler, a youthful rough rider, destined to 
become famous as Fighting Joe Wheeler. 

Each general was ready to attack in the morning, 
but neither knew the willingness of the other. Yet 
everybody was aware that a great battle was soon to 
come. They had felt it in both armies, and for two 
or three days the firing of the skirmishers had been 
almost continuous. Scouts kept each side well in- 
formed. 

Dick, Warner and Pennington, before they lay down 
in their blankets, listened to the faint reports of rifles. 
They could see little owing to the deep woods in which 
they lay, but the sound of the shots came clearly. 

“A part of our army is to cross the fords of Stone 
River in the morning by daylight or before,” said War- 
ner, “and we’re to surprise the enemy and rush him. 
I wonder if we’ll do it.” 

“We will not,” said Pennington with emphasis. 
“We may beat the enemy, but we will not surprise 
him. We never do. Why should we surprise him? 
He is here in his own country. If the whole Southern 
army were sound asleep, a thousand of the natives 
would wake up their generals and tell them that the 
Yankee army was advancing.” 

“Their sentinels are watching, anyhow,” said Dick, 
“but I imagine that we’d gain something if the first 
rush was ours and not theirs.” 

“We’ll hope for the best,” said Warner, “I wonder 
whose time this will be to get wounded. It was mine 


317 


THE SWORD OF. ANTIETAM 


at Antietam, yours, Dick, at Perryville, and only you 
are left Pennington, so it's bound to be you.” 

“No, it won’t be me,” said Pennington stoutly. 
“Fve been wounded in two or three battles already, 
not bad wounds, just scratches and bruises, but as there 
were so many of ’em you can lump ’em together, and 
make one big wound. That lets me out.” 

The Winchester regiment lay in the very thickest 
of the forest and in order not to indicate to the enemy 
their precise position no fires were lighted. The earth 
was still soaked deep with the heavy rains and their 
feet sank at every step. But they did not make many 
steps. They had learned enough to lie quiet, seek 
what rest and sleep they could find, and await the dawn. 


CHAPTER XV 

STONE RIVER 

D ICK awoke at sunrise of the last day of the year, 
and Warner and Pennington were up a mo- 
ment later. There was no fog. The sun hung 
a low, red ball in the steel blue sky of winter. No 
fires had been lighted, cold food being served. 

He heard far off to right a steady tattoo like 
the rapid beat of many small drums. A quiver ran 
through the lads who were now gathering in the wood 
and at its edge. But Dick knew that the fire was 
distant. The other wing had opened the battle, and 
it might be a long time before their own division 
was drawn into the conflict. 

He stood there as the sound grew louder, a continu- 
ous crash of rifles, accompanied by the heavy boom 
of cannon, and far off he saw a great cloud of smoke 
gathering over the forest. But no shouting reached 
his ears, nor could he see the men in combat. Colo- 
nel Winchester, who was standing beside him, shrugged 
his shoulders. 


3i9 


THE SWORD OF. ANTIETAM 


“They’re engaged heavily, or they will be very 
soon,” he said. 

“And it looks as if we’d have to wait,” said Dick. 

“Things point that way. The general thinks so, 
too. It seems that Bragg has moved his forces in 
the night, and that the portion of the enemy in front 
of us is some distance off.” 

Dick soon confided this news to Warner and Pen- 
nington, who looked discontented. 

“If we’ve got to fight, I’d rather do it now and 
get it over,” said Pennington. “If I’m going to be 
killed the difference between morning and afternoon 
won’t matter, but if I’m not going to be killed it’ll be 
worth a lot to get this weight off my mind.” 

“And if we’re far away from the enemy it’s easy 
enough for us to go up close to him,” said Warner. 
“I take it that we’re not here to keep out of his way, 
and, if our brethren are pounding now, oughtn’t we to 
go in and help them pound? Remember how we di- 
vided our strength at Antietam.” 

Dick shrugged his shoulders. His feelings were too 
bitter for him to make a reply save to say: “I don’t 
know anything about it.” 

Meanwhile the distant combat roared and deepened. 
It was obvious that a great battle was going on, but 
the division lay quiet obeying its orders. The sun 
rose higher in the cold, steely blue heavens and then 
Dick, who was watching a forest opposite them, ut- 
tered a loud cry. He had seen many bayonets flashing 
among the leafless trees. 

The cry was taken up by others who saw also, and 
320 


STONE RIVER 


suddenly a long Southern line, less than half a mile 
away, emerged into the open and advanced upon them 
in silence, but with resolution, a bristling and terrific 
front of steel. After all their watching and waiting 
the Northern division had been surprised. Many of 
the officers and soldiers, too, were in tents that had 
been set against the cold and damp. The horses that 
drew the artillery were being taken to water. 

It was an awful moment and Dick’s heart missed 
more than one beat, but in that crisis the American, 
often impatient of discipline, showed his power of in- 
itiative and his resolute courage. While that bristling 
front of steel came on the soldiers formed themselves 
into line without waiting for the commands of the 
officers. The artillerymen rushed to their guns. 

“Kneel; men! Kneel!” shouted Colonel Winches- 
ter to his own regiment. He and all his officers were 
on foot, their horses having been left in the rear the 
night before. 

His men threw themselves down at his command, 
and, all along the Northern line formed so hastily, the 
rifles began to crackle, sending forth a sheet of fire and 
bullets. 

The Northern cannon, handled as always with skill 
and courage, were at work now, too, and their shells 
and shot lashed the Southern ranks through and 
through. But Dick saw no pause in the advance of 
the men in gray. They did not even falter. Without 
a particle of shelter they came on through the rain of 
death, their ranks closing up over the slain, their front 
line always presenting that bristling line of steel. 


321 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


It seemed to Dick now that the points of the bayo- 
nets shone almost in his face, gleaming through the 
smoke that hung between them and the foe, a gap that 
continually grew narrower as the Southern line never 
ceased to come. 

“Stand firm, lads; steady for God’s sake, steady!” 
shouted Colonel Winchester, and then Dick heard no 
single voice, because the roar of the battle broke over 
them like the sudden rush of a storm. He was con- 
scious only that the tips of the bayonets had reached 
them, and behind them he saw the eyes in the brown 
faces gleaming. 

Then he did not even see the brown faces, because 
there was such a storm of fire and smoke pouring forth 
bullets like hail, and the tumult of shouts and of 
the crash of cannon and rifles was so awful that it 
blended into one general sound like the roaring of the 
infernal regions. 

Dick felt himself borne back, It seemed to him that 
their line had cracked like a bow bent too much. It 
was not anything that he saw but a sense of the gen- 
eral result, and he was right. The Northern line which 
had not found time to form properly, was hurled back. 
Neither cannon nor rifles could stop the three South- 
ern brigades which were charging them. 

The South struck like a tornado, and despite a resist- 
ance made with all the fury and rage of despair, the 
Northern division was driven from its position, and 
its line broken in many places. A Northern general 
was taken prisoner. The guns which could not be car- 
ried, because the horses were gone, were taken by 


322 


STONE RIVER 


the triumphant Southerners, and over all the roar and 
tumult of the frightful battle Dick heard that pierc- 
ing and triumphant rebel yell, poured forth by thou- 
sands of throats and swelling over everything, in a 
fierce, dominant note. 

Dick bumped against Warner as they were borne 
back in the smoke. He saw the Vermonter’s blackened 
lips move, and his own moved in the same way, but 
neither heard what the other said. Nevertheless Dick 
read the words in his comrade’s eyes, and they said: 

“Surprised again, Dick ! Good God, surprised !” 

Yet the young troops fought with a courage worthy 
of the toughest veterans. They gave ground, because 
the rush against them was overpowering, but they 
maintained a terrible fire which strewed the earth in 
front of them with dead and wounded. 

“Behind those trees ! Behind those trees !” suddenly 
called Colonel Winchester as they continued their sul- 
len and fighting retreat, and he and the remnants of 
his regiment darted into a little wood just in time. 
There was a sudden rush of hoofbeats on their flank, 
and a cloud of Southern cavalry swept down, shearing 
away the entire side of the Northern division as if 
it had been cleft with the slash of a mighty sword. 
Besides the fallen a thousand prisoners and seven can- 
non fell into the hands of the cavalrymen, who rushed 
on in search of fresh triumphs. 

Dick shuddered with horror, but he saw that all his 
own immediate friends were safe in the wood. A' 
swarm of fugitives poured in after them, and then 
came colonels and generals making desperate efforts 


323 


THE SWORD OF. ANTIETAM 


to reform their line of battle. But the Southern bri- 
gades gave them no chance. Their leaders contin- 
ually urged on the pursuit. The broken regiments 
fell back still loading and firing, and they would soon 
be on the banks of the creek again. 

After a time that seemed almost infinite, Dick heard 
the roar of shells over their heads. In their retreat 
the regiments had come upon another Northern di- 
vision which opposed a strong resistance to the South- 
ern advance. Winchester’s men welcomed their friends 
joyfully. But the fresh troops could not stop the ad- 
vance. The fire of the Southern cannon and rifles 
was so deadly that nearly all the Northern artillery- 
men were killed around their guns. 

The North again gave ground, seeking point after 
point for fresh resistance. They rallied strongly 
around a building used as a hospital, and filled it with 
riflemen. But they were driven from that, too, al- 
though they inflicted terrible losses on their enemy. 

“We’ve got to stop this backward slide somewhere,” 
gasped Pennington. 

“Yes, but where?” cried Dick. 

Whether Warner made any reply he did not know, 
because he lost him then in the flame and the smoke. 
An instant or two later the charging swarms of infan- 
try and cavalry drove them into one of the woods of 
red cedars, where they lay shattered and gasping. The 
smoke lifted a little, and Dick saw the field which he 
already regarded as lost. Then there was a renewed 
burst of firing and cheering, as a regiment of veteran 
regulars galloped into the open space and drove off the 


324 


STONE RIVER 


Southern cavalry which was just about to seize the 
ammunition wagons and more cannon. 

Encouraged by the charge of the regulars, the men 
in the cedar wood rose and began to reform for bat- 
tle. Now chance, or rather watchfulness, interposed to 
save Dick and his comrades from destruction. Rose- 
crans, at another point, confident that McCook could 
hold out against all attacks, listened with amazement 
to the roar of battle coming nearer and nearer. His 
officers called his attention to the fact that save at 
the opening there was no cannon fire. All that ap- 
proaching crash was made by rifles. They judged 
from it that their cannon had been taken, but they did 
not know that the rush of the Southern troops had 
been so fast that their own batteries were not able to 
keep up. 

Rosecrans read the signs with them and his alarm 
was great and justified. Then a dispatch came from 
McCook telling him that his right wing was routed 
and he took an instant resolve. 

Many regiments were marching to another point in 
the line, and the commander at once changed their 
course. He meant to save his right wing, but at the 
same moment a tremendous attack was begun upon 
the center of his army. He struck his horse smartly 
and galloped straight toward the rolling flame. 

Dick and his friends, driven from the defense 
around the hospital, lost touch with the rest of the 
troops. Colonel Winchester held together what was 
left of his regiment, and presently they found them- 
selves in the woods with the troops of the young of- 


325 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


ficer, Sheridan, who had saved the battle of Perryville. 
Here they took their stand, and when Dick saw the 
quick and warlike glance of Sheridan that embraced 
everything he believed they were not going to retreat. 

He heard cheers all around him, men shouting to 
one another to stand firm. They refused to take alarm 
from the fugitives pouring back upon them, and sent 
volley after volley into the advancing gray lines. The 
artillery, too, handled with splendid skill and daring, 
poured a storm along the whole gray front. The 
combat deepened to an almost incredible degree. The 
cannon were compelled to cease firing because the men 
were now face to face. Regiments lost half their num- 
bers and more, but Sheridan still held his ground and 
the South still attacked. 

Dick began to shout with joy. He saw that the 
indomitable stand of Sheridan was saving the whole 
Northern army from rout. The South must continu- 
ally turn aside troops to attack Sheridan, and they 
dared not advance too far leaving him unbeaten in 
their rear. Rosecrans in the center was urging his 
troops to a great resistance and the battle flamed high 
there. It now thundered along the whole front. 
Nearly every man and cannon were in action. 

Dick was glad that chance had thrown his regiment 
with Sheridan, when he saw the splendid resistance 
made by the young general. Sheridan massed all his 
guns at the vital point and backed them up with rifle- 
men. Nothing broke through his line. Nothing was 
able to move him. 

“He’ll have to retreat later on,” Colonel Winchester 
326 


STONE RIVER 


shouted in Dick's ear, “because our lines are giving 
way elsewhere, but his courage and that of his men 
has saved us from an awful defeat." 

The battle in front of Sheridan increased in vio- 
lence. The Confederates were continually pouring 
fresh troops upon him, and it became apparent that 
even he, with all his courage and quickness of eye at 
the vital moment, could not withstand all day long the 
fierce attacks that were being made upon him. The 
Southern fire from cannon and rifles grew more ter- 
rible. Sheridan had three brigades and the command- 
ers of all three of them were killed. The Confederate 
attack had been repulsed three times, but it was com- 
ing again, stronger and fiercer than ever. 

Dick, aghast, gazed at Colonel Winchester and some- 
how through the thunder of the battle he heard the 
colonel's reply: 

“Yes, we'll have to give up this position, but we 
have saved so much time that the army itself is saved. 
Rosecrans is forming a new line behind us." 

Rosecrans, no genius, but a brave and resolute 
fighter, had indeed brought up fresh troops and made 
a new line. Sheridan, having that greatest of all gifts 
of the general, the eye to see amid the terrible tumult 
of battle the time to do a thing, and the courage 
to do it then, sounded the trumpet. Nearly all his 
wagons had been captured by the Southern cavalry, 
and his ammunition was beginning to fail. Around 
him lay two thousand of his best men, dead or 
wounded. Rosecrans and the fresh troops were ap- 
pearing just in time. 


327 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


Yet the retreat of Sheridan was made with the great- 
est difficulty. A! part of his troops were cut off and 
captured. Others drove back the Confederate flank- 
ers with a bayonet charge, 4 and then the remnant re- 
treated, the new lines opening to let them through. 
Dick, as he passed through the gap, saw that he was 
among countrymen. That is, a Kentucky regiment, 
fighting for the Union was standing as a shield to 
let his comrades and himself through, and the people 
of the state were related so closely that in the flare of 
the battle he saw among these new men at least a half 
dozen faces that he knew. 

It was this Kentucky regiment, led by its colonel, 
Shepherd, that now formed itself in the very apex 
of the battle. The remains of the Winchester regi- 
ment, forming behind it, saw a terrible sight. Some 
of the regiments crushed earlier in the action had 
entirely disbanded. The woods and the bushes were 
filled with fugitives, soldiers seeking the rear. Vast 
clouds of smoke drifted everywhere, the air was filled 
with the odors of exploded gunpowder, cannon were 
piled in inextricable heaps in the road, and horses, 
killed by shells or bullets, lay on the guns or between 
the wheels. 

Dick had never beheld a more terrible sight. Their 
army was defeated so far, the dead and the wounded 
were heaped everywhere, terrified fugitives were pour- 
ing to the rear, and the enemy, wild with triumph, 
and shouting his terrible battle yell, was coming on 
with an onset that seemed invincible. 

Colonel Winchester darted among the fugitives and 

328 


STONE RIVER 


with stinging words and the flat of his sword beat 
many of them back into line. Dick, Warner, Pen- 
nington and other young officers did likewise. More 
Kentucky troops bringing artillery came up and joined 
those who were standing so sternly. It became obvi- 
ous to all that they must hold the ground here or 
the battle indeed was lost once and for all. 

Thomas, the silent and resolute Virginian, had ar- 
rived also, and had joined Rosecrans. Dick observed 
them both. Rosecrans, tremendously excited, and reck- 
less of death from the flying shells and bullets, galloped 
from point to point, urging on his soldiers, telling them 
to die rather than yield. Thomas, cool, and showing 
no trace of excitement also directed the troops. Both 
by their courage and resolution inspired the men. 
The beaten became the unbeaten. Dick felt rather than 
saw the stiffening of the lines, and the return of a great 
courage. 

The new line of battle was formed directly under 
the fire of a victorious and charging enemy. Three 
batteries were gathered on a height overlooking a rail- 
road cut, where they could sweep the front of the 
foe. 

Just as they were in battle order Dick saw the faces 
of the Southerners coming through the woods, led 
by Hardee in person. Then he saw, too, the value of 
presence of mind and of a courage that would not yield. 
The three batteries planted by the Kentuckian, Rous- 
seau, on the railway embankment suddenly opened a 
terrible enfilading fire upon the Southern advance. The 
Kentucky regiment standing so firmly in the breach 


329 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


also opened with every rifle firing directly into the 
ranks of their brother Kentuckians, who were ad- 
vancing in the vanguard of the South. Here again 
people of the same state and even of the same county 
fought one another. 

The Confederates pursuing a defeated and appar- 
ently disorganized enemy were astounded by such a 
sudden and fierce fire. One of their generals was 
killed almost instantly, and a part of their line was 
hurled back with great violence. Thomas pushed for- 
ward with a portion of the troops, and after a des- 
perate assault the Southern line reeled and then stopped 
in the wood. Courage and presence of mind had saved 
a battle for the time being, at least. 

At that point the combat sank for a while, and Dick, 
unwounded but exhausted, dropped upon the ground. 
Around him lay his friends, and they, too, were un- 
wounded. It was with a sort of grim humor that he 
remembered a conversation they had held before the 
battle. 

‘‘Well, Frank,” he said, “you’ve escaped.” 

“So far only,” said Warner. “The hurricane has 
softened down a lot here, but not everywhere else. 
Listen !” 

He pointed through the woods toward the left 
where another battle was swelling with a mighty up- 
roar. Bragg having driven in the Union right was 
now seeking to shatter the Union left, but at this point 
there was a Northern commander, Hazen, who was 
no less indomitable than Sheridan. Sheltering them- 
selves along the railway embankment his men, always 


330 



c The three batteries . . . suddenly opened a terrible enfilading 
fire upon the Southern advance. ” 



STONE RIVER 


encouraged by their commander, and his officers, re- 
sisted every effort to drive them back. Noon came and 
found them still holding tenaciously to their positions. 

For a while now the whole battle sank through sheer 
exhaustion on both sides. Each commander reformed 
his line, disentangled his guns, brought forward fresh 
ammunition and prepared for the great combat which 
he knew was coming. Bragg, as he noticed the ad- 
vance of the short winter day, resolved upon the ut- 
most effort to crush his enemy. Victory had seemed 
wholly in his grasp in the morning, but he had been 
checked at the last moment. He would make good the 
defeat in the afternoon. 

The armies had disentangled themselves from the 
woods and bushes. They were now in the open and 
face to face on a long line. The Winchester regiment 
had risen to its feet again, and stood directly behind 
and almost mingled with the Kentucky regiment that 
had saved it. 

“They’re coming!” exclaimed Warner in quick, ex- 
cited tones. “Look, there on the flank!” 

It was the division of Cleburne, in the hottest of 
the battle all through the morning advancing to a fresh 
attack upon the Union lines, but it was received with 
such a powerful fire that it was driven back in dis- 
order into some woods. 

Dick, however, did not have a chance to see this 
as the Southerners, reinforced by fresh troops from 
Breckinridge’s division, were charging in the center 
with great violence. So terrible was the fire that re- 
ceived them that some of the regiments lost half their 


33i 


THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


numbers in five minutes. Yet the remainder, upheld 
by their cannon, returned a fire almost as deadly. Rose- 
crans, absolutely fearless, stood in the very front where 
the danger was greatest. A cannon ball blew off the 
head of his chief of staff who stood by his side. 
“Many a brave fellow must fall ! ,J cried Rosecrans, 
a devoted Catholic. “Cross yourselves, and fire low 
and fast!” 

Many a brave fellow did fall, but his men fired low 
and fast, and, while the Southern troops charged again 
and again to the very mouths of the cannon they were 
unable to break down the last desperate stand of the 
Northern army. They had driven it back, but they 
had not driven it back far enough. Then the sun set 
as it had set so often before on an undecisive battle, 
terrible in its long list of the slain, but leaving every- 
thing to be fought over again. 

“They didn’t beat us,” said Dick as the firing ceased. 

“No,” said Colonel Winchester, “nor have we won 
a victory, but we’re saved. Thank God for the night !” 

“They’ll attack again to-morrow, sir,” said Sergeant 
Whitley. 

“Undoubtedly so,” said Colonel Winchester, who felt 
at this moment not as if he were speaking as colonel 
to sergeant, but as man to man, “and I hope that our 
artillery will be ready again. It is what has saved us. 
We have always been superior in that arm.” 

The colonel had spoken the truth, and the fact was 
also recognized by Rosecrans, Thomas and the other 
generals. While they rectified their lines in the dark- 
ness, the great batteries were posted in good positions, 


332 


STONE RIVER 


and fresh gunners took the place of those who had 
been killed. Both Rosecrans and Thomas were made 
of stern stuff. Afraid of no enemy, and, despite their 
great losses of the day and the fact that they had been 
driven back, they would be ready to fight on the mor- 
row. Sheridan, Crittenden, McCook, Van Cleve and 
the others were equally ready. 

Food w T as brought from the rear and the exhausted 
combatants sank down to rest. Dick was in such an 
apathy from sheer overtasking of the body and spirit 
that he did not think of anything. He lay like an 
animal that has escaped from a long chase. Silence 
had settled down with the darkness and the Confed- 
erate army had become invisible. 

Dick revived later. He talked more freely with those 
about him, and he gathered from the gossip which 
travels fast, much of what had happened. The Union 
army, so confident in the morning, was in a dangerous 
position at night. Nearly thirty of its guns were taken. 
Three thousand unwounded and many wounded men 
were prisoners in the hands of the South. Arms and 
ammunition by the wholesale had been captured. The 
Southern cavalry under Fighting Joe Wheeler had 
gone behind Rosecrans’ whole army and had cut his 
communications with his base at Nashville, at the same 
time raiding his wagon trains. Another body of cav- 
alry under Wharton had taken all the wagons of 
McCook’s corps, and still a third under Pegram had 
captured many prisoners on the Nashville road in the 
rear of the Northern army. 

Dick became aware of a great, an intense anxiety 


333 


THE SWORD OE r ANTIETAM 

among the leaders. The army was isolated. The raid- 
ing Southern cavalry kept it from receiving fresh 
supplies of either food or ammunition, unless it re- 
treated. 

“We’re stripped of everything but our arms,” said 
Warner. 

“Then we’ve really lost nothing,” said the valiant 
Pennington, “because with our arms we’ll recover 
everything.” 

They had a commander of like spirit. At that mo- 
ment Rosecrans, gathering his generals in a tent pitched 
hastily for him, was saying to them, “Gentlemen, we 
will conquer or die here.” Short and strong, but every 
word meant. There was no need to say more. The 
generals animated by the same spirit went forth to 
their commands, and first among them was the grim 
and silent Thomas, who had the bulldog grip of Grant. 
Perhaps it was this indomitable tenacity and resolution 
that made the Northern generals so much more suc- 
cessful in the west than they were in the east during 
the early years of the war. 

But there was exultation in the Confederate camp. 
Bragg and Polk and Hardee and Breckinridge and the 
others felt now that Rosecrans would retreat in the 
night after losing so many men and one-third of his 
artillery. Great then was their astonishment when the 
rising sun of New Year’s day showed him sitting there, 
grimly waiting, with his back to Stone River, a for- 
midable foe despite his losses. Above all the South- 
ern generals saw the heavily massed artillery, which 
they had such good reason to fear. 


334 


STONE RIVER 


Dick, who had slept soundly through the night, was 
up like all the others at dawn and he beheld the South- 
ern army before them, yet not moving, as if uncertain 
what to do. He felt again that thrill of courage and 
resolution, and, born of it, was the belief that despite 
the first day’s defeat the chances were yet even. These 
western youths were of a tough and enduring stock, as 
he had seen at Shiloh and Perryville, and the battle 
was not always to him who won the first day. A long 
time passed and there was no firing. 

“Not so eager to rush us as they were,” said Warner. 
“It’s a mathematical certainty that an army that’s not 
running away is not whipped, and that certainty is 
patent to our Southern friends also. But to descend 
from mathematics to poetry, a great poet says that he 
who runs away will live to fight another day. I will 
transpose and otherwise change that, making it to 
read : He who does not run away may make the other 
fellow unable to fight another day.” 

“You talk too much like a schoolmaster, George/’ 
said Pennington. 

“The most important business of a school teacher 
is to teach the young idea how to shoot, and lately I’ve 
had ample chances to give such instruction.” 

It was not that they were frivolous, but like most 
other lads in the army, they had grown into the habit 
of teasing one another, which was often a relief to 
teaser as well as teased. 

“I think, sir,” said Dick to Colonel Winchester, 
“that some of our troops are moving.” 

He was looking through his glasses toward the left, 


335 


[THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM 


where he saw a strong Union force, with banners wav- 
ing, advancing toward Bragg’s right. 

“Ah, that is well done!” exclaimed Colonel Win- 
chester. “If our men break through there we’ll cut 
Bragg off from Murfreesborough and his ammunition 
and supplies.” 

They did not break through, but they maintained 
a long and vigorous battle, while the centers and other 
wings of the two armies did not stir. But it became 
evident to Dick later in the afternoon that a mighty 
movement was about to begin. His glasses told him 
so, and the thrill of expectation confirmed it. 

Bragg was preparing to hurl his full strength upon 
Rosecrans. Breckinridge, who would have been the 
President of the United States, had not the Demo- 
crats divided, was to lead it. This division of five 
brigades had formed under cover of a wood. On its 
flank was a battery of ten guns and two thousand of 
the fierce riders of the South under Wharton and Peg- 
ram. Dick felt instinctively that Colonel Kenton with 
his regiment was there in the very thick of it. 

Dick’s regiment with Negley’s strong Kentucky 
brigade, which had stopped the panic and rout the day 
before, had now recrossed Stone River and were posted 
strongly behind it. Ahead of them were two small 
brigades with some cannon, and Rosecrans himself was 
with this force just as Breckinridge’s powerful division 
emerged into the open and began its advance upon the 
Union lines. 

“Now, lads, stand firm!” exclaimed Colonel Win- 
chester. “This i$ the crisis.” 

336 


STONE RIVER 


The colonel had measured the situation with a cool 
eye and brain. He knew that the regiments on the 
other side of the river were worn down by the day’s, 
fighting and would not stand long. But he believed 
that the Kentuckians around him, and the men from 
beyond the Ohio would not yield an inch. They were 
largely Kentuckians also coming against them. 

The rolling fire burst from the Southern front, and 
the cannon on their flanks crashed heavily. Then their 
infantry came forward fast, and with a wild shout and 
rush the two thousand cavalry on their flanks charged. 
As Colonel Winchester had expected, the two weak 
brigades, although Rosecrans in person was among 
them, gave way, retreated rapidly to the little river 
and crossed it. 

The Confederates came on in swift pursuit, but Neg- 
ley’s Kentuckians and the other Union men, standing 
fast, received them with a tremendous volley. It was 
at short range, and their bullets crashed through the 
crowded Southern ranks. The Winchesters were on 
the flank of the defenders, where they could get a bet- 
ter view, and although they also were firing as fast 
as they could reload and pull the trigger, they saw the 
great column pause and then reel. 

Rosecrans, who had fallen back with the retreating 
brigades, instantly noted the opportunity. Here, a 
general who received too little reward from the nation, 
and to whom popular esteem did not pay enough trib- 
ute, rushed two brigades across Stone River and hurled 
them with all their weight upon the Southern flank. 
Sixty cannon posted on the hillocks just behind the 


337 


THE SWORD OF. ANTIETAM 


river poured an awful fire upon the Southern column. 

The fire from front and flank was so tremendous 
that the Southerners, veterans as they were, gave way. 
The men who had held victory in their hands felt it 
slipping from their grasp. 

“They waver ! They retreat 1” shouted Colonel Win- 
chester. “Up, boys, and at ’em!” 

The whole Union force, led by its heroic generals, 
rushed forward, crossed the river and joined in the 
charge. The two thousand Southern cavalry were 
driven off by a fire that no horsemen could withstand. 
The division of Breckinridge, although fighting with 
furious courage, was gradually driven back, and the 
day closed with the Union army in possession of most 
of the territory it had lost the day before. 

As they lay that night in the damp woods, Dick and 
his comrades, all of whom had been fortunate enough 
to escape this time without injury, discussed the battle. 
For a while they claimed that it was a victory, but they 
finally agreed that it was a draw. The losses were 
enormous. Each side had lost about one third of its 
force. 

Rosecrans, raging like a wounded lion, talked of at- 
tacking again, but the rains had been so heavy, the 
roads were so soft and deep in mud that the cannon 
and the wagons could not be pushed forward. 

Bragg retreated four days later from Murfreesbor- 
ough, and Dick and his comrades therefore claimed a 
victory, but as the winter was now shutting down cold 
and hard, Rosecrans remained on the line of Murfrees- 
borough and Nashville. 


338 


STONE RIVER 


The Winchester regiment was sent back to Nash- 
ville to recuperate and seek recruits for its ranks. Dick 
and Warner and Pennington felt that their army had 
done well in the west, but their hopes for the Union 
were clouded by the news from the east. Lee and 
Jackson had triumphed again. Burnside, in midwin- 
ter, had hurled the gallant Army of the Potomac in 
vain against the heights of Fredericksburg, and twelve 
thousand men had fallen for nothing. 

“We need a man, a man in the east, even more than 
in the west,” said Warner. 

“He’ll come. Pm sure he'll come,” said Dick 

THE END 

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